


Same Planet, Different Worlds

by gatekat, Starsheild (StarRise)



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bonding, Light Bondage, M/M, Priests, Sparklings, Sticky Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-02
Updated: 2014-02-02
Packaged: 2018-01-03 06:32:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 117,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1067196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gatekat/pseuds/gatekat, https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarRise/pseuds/Starsheild
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To end hostilities, the Prime arranges a double royal wedding. A prince of Praxus is bonded to a royal of Kalis, and Jazz, a minor royal of Kalis, is given to the High Priest of Praxus, Barasi Prowl. For Jazz, it is often an exercise in bewilderment.  For Prowl, what begins as a political arrangement slowly grows into something he never believed he would have in this life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Bond Arranged

There were a number of reasons that the Lord of Praxus would call on the High Priest of Praxus to come visit. Barasi Prowl knew them all, and as he drove into the palace grounds with his honor guard of three he couldn't help but review the most likely ones. It certainly had to do with the summons Lord Skysound had received from the Prime and the subsequent trip to Iacon that had lasted an unusually long two and a half decaorns. What they had discussed was still a secret, though Prowl knew that the so-called Lord of Kalis had been summoned as well and all was not well in the royal palace since Skysound's return three orns ago.

The palace guard saluted him, acknowledging his presence and giving him all of the respect due his rank as the main doors opened for him. The Lord of Praxus himself was there to greet Prowl.

The solemness of his field was a contrast to the smile on his face, though both were warm with honest welcome. "Barasi Prowl, thank you for coming." He started, sensors wings dipping in greeting to an equal before folding back smoothly.

"The interests of Praxus are best served by our continued cooperation," Prowl replied, his tone ritualized. His field, however, spoke a warmer greeting for the mech he had long considered a solid ally, and possibly a good friend, such as things could be in the political arena of their level.

"They are." Skysound agreed, nodding his and lifting his hand for direction. "And that is why I have asked you to come this orn. If you would follow me, there is energon prepared, and a place were we may speak in private."

Prowl nodded and followed. Now in the safety of the palace, his honor guard was free to entertain themselves until he was ready to leave. He knew that they would be well provided for and welcome. Lord Skysound had never been anything but generous in his hospitality when it came to visitors from the temple.

"Please, make yourself comfortable." The Lord said as he ushered Prowl into his personal office. Energon was laid out on small table, and the furniture had been rearranged to accommodate two mecha of equal rank having a conversation.

Prowl selected a cube of energon, easily able to tell his cyanide laced drink from the copper and silicone that Skysound preferred. He relaxed in a chair that always appeared when he was invited to visit and waited for his host to settle. "The Prime did not deliver welcome news."

A small smile graced Skysound's lips at the comment that was also question. "Straight to the spark of the matter. As for the news- it will be up to you to decide what sort it is, since it involves you directly. You are aware that the Prime has been working to strengthen relationships between the individual City-States? Creating political ties and cultural bridges as quickly as he can?"

"Yes. It is a process I approve of and the temple and Order are working to assist," Prowl said even as he canted his wings in curiosity. "How does it involve me in a way he did not tell me?"

"Because it started as political contract negotiations that involved my House. My second creation is going to bond into the ...governing... House of Kalis. The first bonded of the Heir. But I am already bonded, as is my Heir. So we had to find someone of equal rank to offer them in return." Skysound explained, sure that Prowl would be able to draw the connection himself.

"Which falls to me," Prowl canted his sensor wings in understanding. "They have accepted the offer?" He couldn't completely hide his surprise at it, knowing what he did of the cultural condition of that city-state.

"Once they understood the rank of the mech being offered they were much more agreeable. You are not going to be getting any second creation, but hopefully it will still be someone agreeable." Skysound explained, his own wings angled in sincere apology.

"Beyond bonding with this mecha, what will Kalis expect of the union?" Prowl asked calmly, already accepting it as his duty.

"From you personally? Very little. They are after political stability and the governing family wants some legitimacy to their claim." Skysound's tone on a slightly bitter edge. "They were very insistent that they receive a royal as their half of the deal."

"They are what passes for the ruling House. It is a reasonable if an unwelcome truth that Cybertron is for the better if the city is not the subject of every ambitious Lord with a military. They would make a rich prize for many," Prowl conceded the truth that the Prime had seen. "Are they sending one of the creations of the Lord's House in exchange?"

"Yes. A younger mech, not much out of his adult upgrades." Skysound offered Prowl a datapad. "This is what I was able to gather on him before we parted ways. It is not much, but..."

"It is something," Prowl's field spoke of the thanks his tone did not as he skimmed the contents. It was sadly lacking beyond the physical description and a designation. The single item that caught Prowl's attention was the mech's alt and that his engine was upgraded to match the sport racing frame. "At least he is likely to be suitably entertained by the tracks."

Skysound nodded. "I did overhear a comment that he was rather energetic. If he can get into one of the leagues in the city he might be well entertained. It might also provide him with a decent circle of friends, and lessen this burden being placed on you."

"Yes, friends would be good for him," Prowl hummed thoughtfully. "When is he scheduled to arrive?"

"A metacycle from now." Skysound answered, relaxing a little as he realized that Prowl was accepting the news. "I know you have things well under control at the temple, but anything that I can do to help, you need only ask."

"I will," Prowl promised, and it was not an idle one. The Lord's access to social outlets and suitable lovers for the young mech would be invaluable if Jazz turned out to be interested in such things. "Was there anything else of interest in Iacon?"

"A little." Skysound answered, launching into the latest small news and gossip that would be of interest to his guest.

* * *

The trip had been long and boring. The guard that had been sent to watch him had promptly fallen into a light recharge once he had checked the security of the transport, and the servant that was with him seemed scared witless. Jazz was glad when the city finally came into view and he got a first look at the place that was supposed to be his new home. A home that he was really not looking forward to. Oh, he knew why his family had chosen to send him. He was old enough that he was mature, but not old enough to have been trained to do anything of value yet. What small services he had settled into were nothing compared to what he could offer here- the perfect sacrificial offering to this supposed Priest of Primus, and a quarter of the 'binding' between their two states.

He still thought his sister was getting the better end of the deal. The slender Praxian royal that had been delivered to them had been a real optic catcher, and Jazz had been envious. He wouldn't have minded having that pretty piece of aft in his berth for a couple of rounds. The transport slowed, and Jazz leaned forward for a better look as they passed through the first gate of the City of Praxus.

It was glittering and glowed with an inner light, just as the crystals grown here were rumored to do. The crafting of the grand marker was exquisite, the mark of a city with enough spare wealth to care about appearances in a way that only nobles normally did. The mecha he saw moving about seemed well fueled and maintained as well, but he was expected. He wouldn't put it past his new home to put on a careful display for those who would be returning to Kalis after he'd been dropped off.

With that thought Jazz stretched out and kicked the guard in the leg, intent on waking him up so he could report when he got back.

The mech grunted and glared as his optics came online. When Jazz didn't react, green visor steady, the mech's attention turned to the outside world. They passed through the city, from outskirts through a market district, a residential district and a mixed content district, along or through three crystal gardens as well as the famed Helix Garden before finally coming to stop in the courtyard of the grandest building they'd seen. It overlooked the famous garden, the tower and its five shorter, attached buildings constructed to appear as a single crystal formation. It gleamed in the sunlight and Jazz had little doubt that it glowed at night.

The frames moving about were all Praxian, but most weren't the vibrant mix of colors and white that he'd seen up to now. Almost all were a slightly darker than primary red with glyphs in silver, gold or both. All the red mecha had white optics too.

It was creepy in how similar they all looked.

His attention shifted back to the crystal, an attempt to distract his processor from the mecha that apparently occupied the structure while they waited for someone to show up and tell them what in the Pit they were supposed to be doing. It was rather fascinating, and idly Jazz wondered if he would be allowed to touch it. Maybe that was taboo. Which would make finding a place to carve his designation glyph into it even more fun.

It was a thought to remember. Something to entertain himself with once he was allowed to wander on his own. Or as soon as he figured out how to give whatever mechahounds they set to watch him the slip.

He spotted a procession of four red mechs, two with the full set of three wing panels and two with only the first two, that made their way to the shuttle's door.

"That's your cue," the guard waved Jazz and the petrified mechling with him towards the door.

"Joy." Jazz muttered, palming the door opening and dropping gracefully to his pedes to face the procession. He could feel the servant behind him, and the much heavier tread of the guard exiting as well.

Silently he studied the mech in front of him, wondering which one he was supposedly going to bond with. Or if it was even one of these. They all sort of looked like the image he had really only glanced at when it had been presented to him.

With that thought he took a moment to pull the designation of the mecha out of the depths of his processor.

Prowl.

Such an odd sounding designation. Especially for a priest. It hardly matched the designations in the tales and stories Jazz had heard of those who served in religious orders. They always seemed to have designations like Clearspark and Brightlight and such. Unless of course they were the bad mecha of the story.

Out of the corner of his optic Jazz saw several red mecha with only a single wing panel and little decoration by way of paint collecting his belongings and the offerings to be presented to his Intended and Intended's House, or the temple as the case may be.

"Lord Jazz," the priest in front on the right spoke smoothly with a deeply resonant voice. The designation was given with harmonics of welcome and respect, which was a good thing as far as Jazz was concerned. They didn't need to be friendly after all. "I am Archipresul Clearsight. If you will follow me to your quarters until the ceremony with Barasi Prowl. There you may refresh, refuel and recharge."

Jazz nodded, rather irritated and trying to decide if it would do any good to show it. So, his intended wouldn't even come to welcome Jazz himself? Jazz's already low opinion of the mech fell a few more notches.

His sister got a royal looker, and Jazz was being condemned to this. How nice of them.

"Thank you." He had been warned to be nice. At least for as long as it took to finalize the agreement. "We will follow."

The Archipresul canted his slender, sweeping doorwings in a Praxian nod and turned. The three others with him moved to surround Jazz's small group. The two ranking mecha in front, the two lower ranks to the rear, and Jazz was lead through the grand temple that he soon realized had been shaped and carved from crystal. What he swore was a single crystal of unimaginable size. _Everything_ seemed to be crafted of the stuff, even much of the ornamentation. It came in every hue, but it seemed to all be crystal.

This was going to take some getting used to, and his curiosity was growing. Did they shape the stuff as it was growing, or did they carve it after it had grown to whatever size they wanted? Was it really all crystal, or was some of it synth designed to mimic crystal?

The questions continued to distract him from the creepiness of the mecha surrounding them as he was led high into one of the smaller towers, to the second level from the top. He was reasonably sure that the lift was centered in the building and when he stepped out he knew it was true. It was also an entire level from the look of it. High ceilings, easily four or five times what he needed, wide open spaces, almost all of the walls were completely transparent, seeming as if they weren't there. Graceful statues and carvings were dotted about, and there was plenty of comfortable looking furniture. Furniture that had non-crystal cushions.

"This will be your space until you have bonded," Clearsight informed him. "Akiani Honor will instruct you in our ways, the ceremony and answer any question you may have," he indicated a priest with three wing panels and a lot of writing on her frame who came to greet them from a side room.

For a moment all Jazz could think was how smoking hot the priest was, despite the paint job. Maybe this would be bearable. Test the waters with this one, and see how things went. "Thanks. How long is it gonna be before I get to meet this Prowl?"

"By custom, it will be at the ceremony," Honor spoke, her voice soft and rich with a flowing warmth that made Jazz feel like curling up at her pedes and just listening. "Come, we can sit, enjoy the view and talk over energon."

Her touch was light on his arm and her field matched her voice; warm and appealing. Jazz smiled in agreement, the expression inviting as his field reached out to brush against hers with a feeling of warm and welcome, and a little more. Not pushing, but subtly suggesting how attractive he found her as he left the others to leave on their own.

"That sounds delightful," he agreed and followed her to the couch facing a beautiful cityscape dominated by the Helix Gardens. The cushions were soft and felt good under and around him. The energon he was handed by a low ranking priest that seemed to come from nowhere on silent pedes was refreshing and smooth to drink. A light grade from solar power, meant more for enjoyment and flavor than the fuel he was used to in meals.

"I am sure you have many questions Jazz," Honor said with a tiny smile as she relaxed in a cushioned chair near him. "You are free to ask me. My function is as an educator."

Jazz pondered for a moment. "Why can't I meet Prowl before?"

"It is custom for arranged political bondings that the Intendeds do not encounter each other before the ceremony," she gave the longer version of 'custom'. "The original intent was so that none of the parties could form a negative opinion before the ceremony. That still holds true to an extent. The primary purpose now is to honor the old ways."

Well, Jazz already had a negative opinion, and this wasn't doing anything to help it improve, but at least he now knew Prowl's absence wasn't because Prowl thought so little of him. "Can you at least tell me about him? What is he like?"

"Prowl is the Barasi of Praxus, the highest ranking member of the Order in the city. He answers to the Prime and Primus and is considered equal with the Lord of Praxus in rank and status socially," she began with the basics, the reason that Prowl had been selected as Jazz's Intended.

There was a subtle ripple of surprise from Jazz. Not at the level of status that his mate held, but at the fact that in Praxus a priest was considered the equal of the Lord of the City. That would _definitely_ take some getting used to. It also explained why his primary creator had agreed to the arrangement, and not pushed any harder for a royal. A low ranked royal was worth less than a non-royal equal to the Lord of the City.

"His two primary duties are to approve and officiate _every_ spark summoning for city residents and to ensure that the deceased return to Primus in a proper manner. He takes his duties very seriously. Prowl is the youngest to ever hold his office in this city and he is dedicated to it."

Jazz considered that, sorting through the layers of meaning. His intended was important. And busy. From the sound of it he was far too busy and dedicated to have much time to spare for his mate. With a mental shrug Jazz filed that away, along with a note to start making a list of ways to keep himself entertained. This was a political arrangement. He really didn't have any expectation of being loved, though he had hoped for a nice piece of aft and spike to play with regularly.

"How did he get the job, if he's so young?" He asked, curious as to the inner workings of the system here. If his intended knew how to play the system, Jazz wanted to be ready for the potential that he might be played, or used as a pawn, as well.

"Prowl's spark was called with a batch of enforcers, however it was white, so he was immediately transferred to the temple for additional programming and training. He adapted to his function and existence here exceptionally well. While not the most social of priests, he is very dedicated and rose quickly through the ranks on merit of skill and efficiency. In Prowl's four thousandth vorn our former Barasi stepped down in favor of Prowl."

That made Jazz freeze. He was getting an officer turned priest? This was looking worse by the klik. Thoroughly disgruntled now, he decided to try a different line of questioning in hopes that the answers would be more agreeable. "So what do you lot do around here for fun?"

"In the temple there is little, perhaps nothing, you would consider fun," her voice was gentle. "However, all of Praxus will be open to you after the ceremony. There are gardens, shopping, music, sports, theater, social events, racing. Everything a city can offer is here. Until we are comfortable that you can and will find your way here from anywhere in the city, and that you know what areas are best left alone by your kind, you will have a guide for all excursions. I enjoy indulging in whatever is new and trend-setting, though largely for the purpose of being able to record it accurately, as was my first function."

Now that sounded a lot better, and Jazz relaxed some. If there was that much legitimate fun to be had, he might be able to find something to do. Racing was always a good past time, one that he had often enjoyed, and his engine purred softly at the idea. It also sounded as though he would be allowed out on his own eventually, which was a good sign as well. While it was fun giving watch hounds the slip, it could also get tedious and annoying after a while.

A moment later and his processor caught up the rest of her statement. "Your first function?" He repeated, openly curious.

"Before one becomes an Akiani, a scholar and teacher, one must be an accomplished Srila, a recorder of life. It is important to be able to record before one teaches," she explained. "Many remain Srila their entire existence. I enjoy passing on my knowledge as well as increasing it."

Jazz's processor was starting to spin as he tried to sort through it all, all of the levels and things she was telling him. Learning more of this temple functioning and how it worked was rapidly becoming a priority. At least if he wanted to be able to function in it. "So what is my place in all of this supposed to be?"

Honor smiled, a small, gentle expression. "Your duty once you are bonded will be to attend social functions with Barasi Prowl as his bonded. While you are not expected to maintain our standards of behavior, you are expected not to bring shame to the Order or Barasi Prowl. As I understand it, the expectations will be similar to your upbringing. Do not become overcharged in public. Do not speak ill of the Order or your bonded. Do not get into brawls. Do not accept funds or favors to interface. Speak in an educated manner or do not speak at all on a subject. There is no shame in not knowing something. There is shame in speaking falsely."

The dark colored mech seated across from her contemplated that thoughtfully. It did parallel the expectations of the mate of a noble or ruling house very closely, and overall wasn't that difficult to accept. There was nothing _unreasonable_ in it. "So those are the general expectations, and then whatever else my intended would have of me?"

"Yes," she canted her elegant, slender wings slightly. "From what I know of him, you can expect that he will wish you to develop interests and duties to occupy your time, either within the temple setting or outside it. As I am sure you can understand, he does not have many joors he can devote to entertaining you. He is a good mech with a deeply caring spark and will not wish you to be miserable. It is simply not his way to devote effort to personal relationships when his function demands his time." Honor paused and considered him. "I hope you were not led to expect to remain in your quarters and tend to him and creations. While creations are not out of the question, they are unlikely unless you wish one. As priests we are trained to be largely self-sufficient. While there will be no objection to your servant remaining for you, they are rare here and generally discouraged in favor of maintaining yourself out of respect for the frame Primus sent you to."

"I wasn't really sure what to expect." Jazz admitted, musing over this new information. He had wondered about the matter of creations and what would be expected of him along that front. He did have a fondness for little ones, so long as they weren't spoiled brats like many of his cousins were turning out to be. "I wasn't even sure if Softpede was going to be allowed to remain." He added, referring to the small mechling that had come with him as a servant, and one of the few actual gifts from his creators.

"Besides newsparks, what else does the temple here do?" Jazz was beginning to suspect that the 'temple' that existed in his native state of Kalis was a mockery of what one was actually supposed to be, and was curious to see what existed here.

"Our primary function, first and foremost, is the care of sparks as they transition from one state to another," she began, relaxing easily into the story of her temple and the function she was very proud to be part of. "To guide them into their frames, and to guide them out to return to our creator. Next in importance is the recording, safekeeping and relaying of information; our history, culture, laws, important events and the state of the people in any given orn."

Jazz nodded, thoughtful and listening. She was pleasant to listen to at least, and if her desire was to be a teacher, she was a good one. Her explanations made sense, even to one who knew little on the subject, and there was a joy in her that was contagious.

"Those are the duties we have always had, that which Primus, through the Prime, created the Order to do. Since then we have taken on other duties. The Barasi helps keep the Lord and nobility from forgetting their function is to serve the people and the city. We assist the poor find work, energon and a place to recharge. We educate any who come to us, including training in various crafts so they can support themselves. We take in orphans and the young whose creators can no longer care for them, provide them with shelter, energon, upgrades and an education to be productive members of society. We support the arts and maintain many of the cultural sites and museums in the city."

"So essentially, you do everything." Jazz summed up with a smile. "Sounds like you almost have more power than the ruling House around here."

Honor hummed thoughtfully, processing his statement on many levels to craft her response. "We have different power, and different duties. Within our realms of influence we do have more power than they do, just as they have more power elsewhere. The ruling House is to oversee the political, legal and physical infrastructure. They organize the military and enforcers. It is their function to ensure that society is safe and functioning. It is our function to ensure that we have a society and remember it. It only works well when both sides perform their function and respect the other."

That idea was also rather new to Jazz, and he filed it away to think about it more later. That sort of balance of power had to be hard to maintain.

"You have given me much to think about," he said, helm tilting to the side as he studied the slender femme. "Did I hear you right- that I am going to be stuck here in these rooms until the ceremony?"

"While it is preferable that you remain here, you may explore the temple or visit a site of importance with an escort. Myself. It is most important that you to not encounter your Intended," she said carefully. "There are many things to keep you entertained during the joors you are not studying. A full entertainment center, comm so you may speak with friends and family, library and oil pool are all within these quarters."

"Studying?" Jazz repeated, distracted from wondering if the optic catching priestess would be interested in being part of his entertainment while he was here. Preferably in his berth.

"Of course. It is my responsibility to ensure that you know the ceremony to come and the basics of how to function in the temple and Praxus," she said easily. "You are an important mech now. You need to know what is expected of you and what you are witnessing."

"I guess that is a good thing." Jazz admitted. "There are some other things that I would like to study as well, if you would be willing to help me." His voice dropped a little, taking on a soft purr. "Such as the Praxian frame-type."

Honor actually looked startled for a brief moment, then chuckled. "Fortunately, your interfacing habits will not be something Prowl cares about, so long as you select suitable berthmates. I would enjoy teaching you about the Praxian frame."

"I'll remember that, especially if there is a good supply of willing suitable ones. And I am ready any time you want to start my education, my lady." Jazz said, field reaching out in welcome and eagerness.

The trip had been long, and boring. Jazz had energy to burn and then some, and what better way to spend it than with such an attractive companion?

She extended her hand as she rose. "In the berth, the pool or the washrack?"

"The washrack sounds like the perfect place to start, and then we can move on from there." Jazz suggested as he took her hand, raising to his lips for a kiss.

* * *

Jazz was happy and relaxed, oddly calm beside the priestess Honor in his berth. He knew, in an abstract way, that she'd been functional for three joors now. It seemed all priests, regardless of rank or function, attended prayers to greet the sun and other duties. It tended to all be over with well before he was ready to rouse himself, so she was typically back in the berth for some fun by the time he was ready to deal with the orn.

His teacher turned out to be a wonderful companion, and Jazz was starting to wonder if she might be agreeable to continuing their relationship, however it was to be defined, if he and his intended did not get along as well. In the past four orns he'd learned a great deal about his new home, and while the temple itself was insufferably stuffy and structured overall, they were relaxed in a few ways, mostly about interfacing and any expectations that he remain in the complex, that made him very hopeful for his future happiness.

It wasn't perfect, but so long as Prowl didn't turn out to be psycho-possessive or sadistic, it was at least as good as he had hopes for back home, and maybe better.

With a purr he rolled over and ran a gentle hand down Honor's sensor wing. "Good orn."

The sensitive appendage pressed lightly into the contact and she hummed happily. "Good orn."

With a smiled he snuggled closer to the slender frame, his frame warm. "I'm thinking breakfast energon and then...you are wonderful company, but I would like to get out for a little bit today. Would you show me around some?"

From the sound of what she had told him there was not going to be much in the temple that he wanted to see. But there was something that had caught his attention on his way in. "The crystals, perhaps?"

"Certainly," she said easily, her field backing up that it was a reasonable request. "There are meditative gardens, walking gardens and resource gardens."

"Any of them, or all of them." Jazz said, happy at the acceptance and the change as he rose from the berth and offered her his hand. If things continued the way they had been going the last few orns there would energon waiting for them both, a concession to the fact that he had to avoid his intended for the time now.

He easily moved with her to clean up and polish each other to what she deemed a suitable shine and absence of scuffmarks. While she was slightly more fastidious than he was accustomed to, the basics -- be presentable at all times outside your quarters -- was an old rule easily adapted to the new standard. Not fun, but easily accepted.

"And then we can clean up in the washrack, and you can explain some more of the ceremony and traditional stuff that I am supposed to know." While Jazz wasn't used to having so much structure in his orns, it seemed to please Honor. Volunteering for that structure pleased her a lot more, and he had a feeling it was because his Intended was a very structured mech who had some hang-ups when it came to order and time. But as far as bad traits went, Jazz knew worse. He probably had worse himself.

"That sounds like a good plan for the orn," she agreed with a bit of a teasing smile before they went to sit at a table overlooking the downtown merchant district to drink their morning energon. "Have you grown crystals?"

"I'd never seen anything like them except in holo images before coming here." Jazz admitted as he picked up his energon and took a sip, sighing contentedly as the smooth, high-quality fuel slid down his intake. It had taken a grand total of one refueling for Honor to learn what his tastes were and he'd been indulged shamelessly on solar energon with copper, silver, magnesium, zinc and cyanide additives for a perfect mix of sour and sweet in the light tasting fuel. "Do they make up everything here in Praxus?"

"Oh no," she laughed warmly. "Naturally grown crystals rarely get much larger than a convoy class and are rarely suitable for anything structural. They're grown for decorative elements and to be ground into powder that we use for larger projects such as temples. It is far too expensive for normal buildings. While every Praxian values open space and windows, traditional materials are used for most buildings."

"So the buildings that look like they are constructed of crystal are made of normal materials overlaid with crystal powder?" Building construction had never been a topic that interested Jazz, but he found himself oddly fascinated by the construction of his new home.

"Some of them. It depends on their value. Temples, light galleries, sound halls and the royal palace, for example, truly are pure crystal and all natural growth. What could not be cut, carved or grown into shape were created by melting various natural crystal powders and then solidifying them into the needed form," she motioned to various points in the room as she spoke. "Lower end constructions such as the homes of the wealthy will have a veneer of natural crystal over standard transparent materials. Below that are synthetics that look like crystal but lack some of their beauty and natural resonance. Those may or may not have a crystal veneer, but it will not be the quality of better locations."

"So whatever one can afford." That at least was a standard that Jazz was used to. "I can't wait to see them."

He pondered for another klik, sipping on his energon. "What sort of resonant qualities? Light? Sound? Something else?"

"Yes, yes, and other forms of energy," she smiled at him, encouraging his curiosity. "Different crystals have different properties. Some crystals sing or glow, such as those in the Helix Garden. Some amplify sound, or generate electricity when compressed. Others fracture parts of the electromagnetic spectrum into constituent wavelengths or absorb energy and make meditation easier. Still others are hard enough to use in industrial applications or even our own frames. Some are simply pretty to look at. Though few realize it, our world and society would function no more readily without crystals than it would without metal or energon."

There was a hint of eagerness in Jazz's field now, and he finished off his energon more quickly than usual. He wanted to see the gardens, possibly the first thing here in Praxus to make him think that the city itself might not be such a bad place to live.

"I think you would enjoy the farms most," she smiled and stood, her energon finished at the same time as his. "There is one as part of our education center that includes a holo display and full database of what each is used for and its properties."

"Your lead, my lady." Jazz said, even as he offered her his arm. He had manners, and could be quite charming, when he wanted to. And he rather wanted to at the moment.

* * *

Honor had tried. She really had.

But as Jazz tried to process everything, all of the activity swirling around him, he was sure that nothing could have prepared him for what was taking place. He knew his role in the massive dance, but even as he performed it he wondered who had come up with all of this.

His armor gleamed in the brilliant light of the temple, the gold accents and swirls twirling over his frame shining along his dark colored frame. It had been the work of an entire team of specialists and most of a night to buff, polish, paint, and seal his frame.

Now he was waiting in a small room for his turn to march up the temple steps into the grand Chamber of Light, through the multitude assembled, to stand by his Intended before the Prime and say the vows in the optics of Primus that would seal his fate in this functioning.

He cycled air deeply, taking comfort from the field of his current teacher as he teeked Honor's field where she stood next to him. She was excited in a good way, calmer than him but still nervous. She had a right to be, he knew. Though it hadn't been said outright, he'd picked up enough clues to realize that if he messed up anywhere before reaching his new quarters, it was going to come down on her more than him. It had been her duty to prepare him. If he didn't perform correctly, if he brought any shame to anyone, it was going to hit her like a ten-ton of sheet metal. He had no clue what the punishment might be, but with how big a deal this ceremony was, it wasn't likely to be a slap on the wrist.

Archipresul Clearsight, whom Jazz now knew was ranked second only to Prowl around here, appeared with Jazz's creators in tow. "It is time," he said simply.

Jazz nodded to the Archipresul, glancing at his creators because it was expected of him to acknowledge them, not because he was actually glad to see them. His primary creator was trading him for his creators own gain, order of the Prime or not, and he was rather sure they were not going to miss him.

His field was calm and neutral, matching theirs as he fell into step with them and felt the honor guard surround them all. It all made him feel very much like a sacrifice being lead to the slaughter, a sacrifice that they expected to try and bolt. He wouldn't, but it didn't stop the feeling.

He liked being the center of attention, he really did, but this was a bit much. It seemed like every mecha in the city and half the rest of Cybertron was there. Which might not be that far off the truth if you counted those watching on vids. It was still sinking in for Jazz just how important a mech Prowl was. To have this level of pageantry arranged in a metacycle was just too much.

Still Jazz managed to walk in the slow, stately and proud manner he'd been drilled in. This was his future and he wasn't about to give the mech with the power to destroy him a reason to be angry before they were even bonded. If Prowl was pleased with the lack of attention he had to waste on Jazz, then he was much more likely to let Jazz do as he pleased.

Which meant not causing trouble. Any sort of trouble.

The music changed as they crossed the threshold of the temple, and Jazz focused on the alter at the end of the road before him. He felt all the optics on him, all the recorders and transmitters, and he simply shoved them to one corner of his processor. 

His world focused in on the music and his steps, leveling out the rough edge from the nerves and easing his trip down the aisle. The honor guard surrounding them parted smoothly when he and his creators reached the foot of the alter flowing to either side to stand at attention.

Suddenly Jazz was thankful for what had felt like endless drilling at Honor's hands. His motion was perfection as he ascended the appropriate number of steps and dropped to one knee, helm bowed, before the Prime. On the outside his frame was still and graceful. On the inside, his very spark quivered at being in the presence of the mech that was the living symbol of their entire race. 

At this range he could teek the mech if he reached out, though he didn't, only to find a soothing presence settle him, surround him in comfort, before he'd even realized what was going on.

The Prime had such power in his field! He was not merely a large mech, or a powerful one. Jazz realized he could _feel_ that the Prime was truly _different_ in a way he couldn't put words to, but his spark reveled in being near. His spark wanted nothing more than to be close and luxuriate in the presence it was in. Jazz was reasonably sure that Sentinel Prime could ask anything of him and he would do it, gladly and without reservation.

On some level it was disturbing, and he was rather sure it would hit home later. But all he could think of now was that he didn't care and that he was no longer afraid.

With thought his attention shifted a little, to the mech next to him. The one that was to be his bonded mate, his new owner and master. He wore the same frame and colors as all the others; slighter darker than primary red with white optics, a golden chevron with a silver center, three slender wing panels and glyphs in a language Jazz didn't know inscribed all over his frame.

Even without knowing who he was, it was obvious he was a high-ranking priest.

What really caught Jazz's notice was how unnaturally even his field was when Jazz's finally reached it. Prowl held it close to his frame and almost perfectly still.

It was creepy, and not what Jazz had expected at all. None of the other priest's fields had been so unnatural. If it were not for the soothing presence washing over him, he might have reacted. Withdrawn some, even if he had not actually run.

But a stronger force held him in place, and temporarily soothed the quivering of his spark in his chest. The first words spoken by the Prime recaptured his attention, Jazz's focus shifting to the mech that towered above him and following the ceremony that had been drilled into him. Focused on the Prime and what he needed to do things moved smoothly once more.

The oaths were spoken, promises of loyalty, honor and submission that Jazz hadn't thought about even as he'd memorized them. He knew his place as the subservient mate.

After what seemed like orns on his knee, Jazz saw Prowl rise next to him, and then extend his hand to his new bonded in a gesture of consideration.

The darker mech took the offered hand, still searching for more as he rose, joints protesting only slightly at the length of the ceremony and the demands that it placed on them.

The hand in his guided him around until he facing his new bonded, looking up into the white optics. A shiver ran through him, the emotionless lights echoing the field he was still teeking. He could only hope that the apparent lack of care was a blanket feature in his mate, and that he would be allowed to find friends and mecha who cared outside of this political relationship. The mech couldn't be all that bad with how many spoke with such loyalty and fondness for him. Maybe this was just a presentation thing, something Prowl did for official ceremonies.

He would hope. He'd know within a couple joors if it got any better.

Then Jazz was being lead from the Chamber of Light on Prowl's arm, both of them moving in perfect synch to the music and therefore each other. The greetings and congratulations seemed to go on forever, most of them from mecha Jazz didn't know, or knew from holos of the world's VIP list. Last in the painfully long line was the Prime, whose wishes for their happiness teeked completely sincere, but far more interestingly, caused Prowl's field to warm and caresses the large mech's in welcome and thanks that teeked as genuine as Prime's. 

That was enough to ignite a small spark of hope in Jazz as he gracefully accepted the Prime's congratulations and blessing as well, his field warming in an automatic response to the sincerity of the great mech.

He had never lost the understanding that this bonding was to be political. He had seen a great many of them in his functioning already. And while he held no great hopes for actual love in his future, a relationship where he was at least treated with something resembling acceptance and moderate interest didn't seem like too much to ask for. He held onto that hope as he was lead through the temple into the only tower he hadn't visited yet. The one where the Barasi's residence was.

The decorations were rich and elegant, perfectly matched to what Jazz understood as refined Praxian aesthetics. Fitting for a mech on par with the Lord of the City. It was still weird to have most color come from how the crystals reflected or refracted light, but he was getting used to it. It was beautiful.

Then entry room of the Barasi's suite was predictably a public place, intended to entertain guests. Jazz knew better than to take many personal cues from such a space. There were always a few, but nothing like what you found further in, where it was personal space. He remained silent for the time being, still trying to get a read from the mech who was guiding him. He allowed the public facade to drop, through his field and frame did not relax. This could well set the tone for their entire relationship, and he was still wary of what he was going to find.

As they entered the second room, a library, he felt Prowl's frame relax and his field seep out a bit further. It was still held close and unnaturally neutral, but at least it didn't teek as a near-drone or just missing.

"Energon?" Prowl asked as he guided Jazz to sit on one of the plush chairs in a grouping that was meant for intimate gatherings of two to four.

"That would be nice. It has been...a long orn." One filled with stress upon stress. The new, the unknown, the future. Nothing really familiar or comfortable.

He had to find a suitable thank you for Honor. Duty required of her or not, she had gone above and beyond whatever had surely been required of her. His education had been her charge. Her personal efforts to his comfort likely a different matter all together.

Jazz watched as Prowl poured two cubes of shimmering high grade. One the lighter color of solar, the second the rich blue of hydro, and added powders to each before bringing them over and handing the solar to Jazz before he sat down.

"Tell me what you expect of this arrangement." Prowl requested.

The dark mech vented softly, searching for an answer as he took a sip of the energon, his visor flaring in surprise when he found it exactly to his preferred taste, right down to the additive ratio. Another klik of silence, his field reaching out in tentative thanks.

"I expect whatever you will ask of me." He finally answered. "As the subordinate mate, that is how things are supposed to be." Prowl had not asked what Jazz wanted, only what he expected. Of what he wanted...the basics had changed little, but Jazz was no longer sure of the specifics.

Something flickered across Prowl's field too fast to be understood, but it didn't feel particularly good to Jazz.

"Then what do you hope for?" Prowl tried again.

Jazz fiddled with the cube of energon. "I hope for a pleasant existence, at the least. I would like to get to know my bonded, to have friends and-." His voice cut off as he remembered Honor's warning about creations. "Friends, and the freedom to pursue my own hobbies and interests, around whatever duties are required of me."

Safe answers, he hoped. Ones that might elicit a different response than his first answer. He was trying, Primus help him.

Prowl hummed, and nodded before sipping his energon. "Honor does not believe you will have any difficulty making friends once you have settled enough to travel freely. She's also mentioned a sustained interest in crystals. What else appeals to you, that you know of? Things outside the temple."

"Racing, both street and track." Jazz responded, his field teeking a level of excitement at the mention. He earned a small smile for it, which encouraged his willingness to speak. He had been a good racer at home, winning often and placing more often than not. There was something about the speed and reflexes required that appealed to him on a physical and mental level and was very fulfilling. "I also enjoy music. Not writing it, but listening. I can sing and play a little too."

Prowl's slender sensor wings lifted slightly in interest. "What genres?"

"Pop culture, improv, some of the classics." Jazz rattled off. "Ballads are fun too, the story songs."

The first two were fun, always changing, and they kept Jazz on his toes with keeping up. The others...there was something soothing about the classics that Jazz could lose himself in when needed something safe and familiar, the same with the ballads and story songs.

"Do you like to perform, or is it something just for yourself?" Prowl asked with definite interest.

"It's always just been something for myself." Jazz admitted. "I've done a little at open nights in clubs and places, just for fun. But never anything serious."

"Did you enjoy performing?" Prowl pressed gently. "There are several locations suitable for you to go to an open night if you wish, and several you should not be seen at," he added as a caution. "While you will have an unusual amount of freedom for the rank you now hold, there are still expectations about who you socialize with when it is not for duty."

"I enjoyed performing. It was fun, especially when the crowd got into it, or clearly appreciated the performance. There were a couple of places I ended up making it sort of a regular thing. And I understand." Jazz nodded. "Who is acceptable for me to socialize with?"

Prowl gave a soft sign through his vents and settled back fully to sip on his energon. "You should avoid thieves, gangs, the overcharged, places where buymecha gather, the gutters. For all we are applauded our outreach and efforts among such groups, it makes the mecha who fund our activities nervous when we socialize with them off duty. While all priests of lapresul rank or greater have the training needed to survive there, from what I understand you have no martial arts experience to use if your social standing is not enough to protect you."

"They are not. The fighting arts never really interested me." Jazz was willing to admit that to his bonded. There was no reason to lie about his short comings, and so far he had every reason to be honest. Nothing that Prowl had asked of him or instructed him so far had been unreasonable. If he were honest with himself, it was so far from unreasonable it was a little hard to believe. Everything he heard said he'd have more freedom and support here than he had back home.

"I will not demand that you learn," Prowl said simply. "However I will expect you to comply with having a guard nearby while outside the temple grounds so long as you can not defend yourself. Your survival for the next few hundred vorns is politically important to the stability of Praxus and Kalis as ... better than aggressors. To have you damaged while in this city could be enough to undo all the progress this exchange has made."

"I will obey." Jazz said. There were worse things that Prowl could ask of him, and slowly Jazz allowed his field to extend more, reaching out to feel in Prowl's direction and teek more of his mate. "May I ask what you are expecting of me?"

"You may ask anything you wish and I will do my best to answer it truthfully," Prowl said seriously. His field caressed back, uncomfortable but not upset. He sipped his energon, giving himself a moment to collect his thoughts. "I expect you to live within the means I provide. If you wish additional funds, I expect you to work for them in an acceptable manner."

Prowl paused to ping a file to Jazz detailing his allowance, both in shanix and what would be provided by the temple, and a detailed list of acceptable ways to earn additional funds. Though once Jazz hit the number for his allowance he didn't get much further for a while. It was _very_ generous by his standards. Even accounting for the fact that things in Praxus would undoubtedly be more expensive, it was far more than he usually had to spend.

"I expect you to behave in a manner that does not shame the city, temple or myself," Prowl continued, along with another detailed file that at quick scan seemed identical to the one Honor had given him. "If you chose to have lovers, do not bring them to my quarters. You will have permanent access to a suite to use when you are not with me if you wish. You will be expected to attend several functions each vorn with me."

"I-." Jazz sorted through the lists, a little dazed at the amount of leeway that he was actually being given. Most of what he had been told to expect was being turned upside down and shredded rather thoroughly, and on top of the ceremony was starting to make his processor hurt again.

He was allowed to perform if he wished. Service work was very acceptable. And even his racing habits were acceptable so long as his participation was through acceptable venues. And there were a number of legitimate tracks and leagues in file attached specifically to the racing part.

It seemed as though his bonded had done as much homework as he could on Jazz before Jazz had arrived and Honor's notes had been taken seriously as well.

"You are...very generous." He finally mumbled, looking up at Prowl again.

"I wish for our circumstances to cause us as little stress as possible," Prowl said gently, his expression softening and field betraying his stress. Or Jazz at least thought it was. It would take time to learn to read the subtly that was Prowl's non-verbal clues. "I have very little time to devote to a mate. My inclinations have not led me to desire such intense level of company. Thus you will be left to your own devices for much of the time. There is no reason you can not enjoy living in Praxus despite how ill-suited I am to be anyone's mate."

"I understand. Do you not wish to bond then?" Jazz asked, a question that had been gnawing at him since the ceremony. If legalities alone were enough for Prowl, he was not going to argue.

"Since it was not demanded in the contract, I do not wish to," Prowl said carefully. "A spark bond should be something sacred, a unity of love and devotion, not a political tool. I would bond only when I love a mecha deeply."

So this mech had no intention of creating a spark bond with him. Jazz could function with that. "I agree." It was an odd bit of common ground, perhaps.

Of everything he'd said, it earned the strongest reaction. Tension actually began to leave Prowl and he smiled enough that there was no doubt what the expression was.

"I do not expect you to share my berth," Prowl moved onto the next logical subject. "Though I do welcome you there."

"I like having company in my berth, as I am sure you have already heard." Jazz pointed out. "I would like to share yours, at least until there is a reason not to."

"I have heard," he nodded with a slight touch of amusement in his field. "It is why I was so clear that I do not mind you enjoying the company of others. I am aware that many dominant mates are not so tolerant of it. Did I get the mix correct," he motioned towards Jazz's half-finished cube.

"Perfectly." Jazz purred softly, still not over being indulged with his favorite energon. "What do you prefer?" He asked, nodding to the cube that the Prowl was holding. Small details could be just as interesting as the big ones.

"7.3% arsenic and 1.9% pyrite," Prowl said. "Those who dislike it have likened the results to battery acid. I enjoy my evening high grade sharp and bitter unless I am recovering from something or otherwise highly stressed."

"It rather sounds like battery acid." Jazz agreed with a soft laugh, relaxing a little more even as processor filed the information away. Prowl was his bonded, and his coding was already shaping itself around pleasing him. Especially when it was easy, simple things like his preferred blend of energon. "And the base?"

"Hydro, when we have it, which starts out too sharp for some," Prowl offered a slight smile. "Of what is always in stock, my favorite is Praxian Quartz. I would be surprised if you've had it, but if you enjoy solar you may enjoy it. It is a very light, clean tingle, almost pure. We've never produced enough to export. Those who have it generally make it in house."

Jazz considered that, and nodded with a smile of his own. "I would like to try some."

"Tomorrow night then," Prowl agreed easily as he set his cube aside and sealed it with a finger, not even needing to look. "It has been a long and trying orn for us both," he said and stood, offering a hand to Jazz. "I believe we would both benefit from an early and long recharge."

"Mine perhaps being longer than yours, unless I am expected to join you?" Jazz said as he took the offered hand, much more at ease than he had been when he had first arrived.

During his time with Honor he had become well accustomed to the schedule and order the of the temple. She had risen every morning for the early prayers, leaving Jazz to his recharge. He had been quite content with the arrangement, and it only occurred to him now that he might be required there as the mate of the High Priest.

"For the time being you are free to choose to attend or not," Prowl said as he lead Jazz further back, into a windowless room in the center of the full-level suite. It was a small space, but it didn't feel like it. His first step into the room and he nearly balked at stepping into what seemed to be open air. But his pedes touched a solid surface despite appearances of walking into a sphere in the middle. The only furniture seemed to be a berth in the perfect center of the room, a space lit by a soft pulse that seemed to come from all around.

Jazz still tread carefully as he tried to process his surrounding. His field was tentative, not afraid but not sure at the same time. It was certainly not what he had been expecting.

"The floor is solid and stable," Prowl promised, his field solid and reassuring. It teeked of no amusement either, which rather surprised Jazz.

"It's not just the floor." Jazz admitted, the entire room feeling odd to him. the decor, or lack thereof, was so incredibly odd. Still, he allowed Prowl to lead him to the berth, stopping at the edge to wait on instruction, in case the Praxian had recharge preferences.

"Yes, I suppose this is strange," Prowl paused to look around, and really seemed to _look_. "I have recharged inside a chamber room much of my existence. It is normal to me. Do you believe you will have difficulty recharging here?"

"A chamber room?" Jazz repeated, making it a clear question. "What exactly is it?"

Prowl smiled, actually _smiled_ , and lay down on the berth, settling on the far side so Jazz had room. "This could be the spark chamber of a small metrotitan. It is crafted to the same specifications as Praxus herself."

"As Praxus...this is a spark chamber?" Jazz stared at him from where he was kneeling on the edge of the berth, stunned. Then more of the statement sunk in. " _Praxus_ has a spark?"

"All metrotitans have a spark," Prowl lifted himself to an elbow to converse more sociably. "They are mecha like us. They are just huge on a scale few can comprehend and rarely transform. Most cities have a metrotitan at their core that they have built up around."

Jazz collapsed on the berth, the softness lost on him as he tried to process that idea. The fact that cities themselves were built around sparks was something that he had never known, never imagined, and it opened a whole new line of thought for him. "Why? Are they happy as they are?"

"Of course. It is their function to be inhabited," Prowl said gently. "A metrotitan is a very special kind of spark. Their joy is to be filled with life and activity. Primus has only allowed a handful to be housed in a frame in all of history. All those I have met are still fully able to leave their location should they wish to."

"It-sorry. That is going to take some getting used to." Jazz said as he looked around the chamber again. He would adjust, but it might take a while.

"It never housed a spark," Prowl said rather gently. "It is meant to encourage one to feel as if they are recharging inside Primus's chamber."

Jazz forced himself to vent, forced him frame to start relaxing down on the berth. "Do all Priests recharge in a place like this?"

"No, only Barasi, Archipresul and a few specialists, such as the Pelamun," Prowl explained, his field relaxing as he did. "It is not a simple thing to create."

Jazz found the fact that there were not that many of these kinds of chambers comforting for some reason, and he relaxed more. The orn was starting to catch up with him, now that he was no longer as wary of his mate, and it was a struggle to hold off the growing need to recharge.

"Recharge, Jazz," Prowl's voice was smooth and calm. "We can speak more in the morning."

"Thank you." Jazz mumbled as his visor went dark and his field and frame relaxed into an exhausted recharge.


	2. Settling In

Even after everything else was online Jazz left his optics off, and just lay on the soft berth. He knew he was alone, but he wasn't quite ready to face the odd room, and there was more than enough to occupy his processor for a while as it went over the events of the last several orns, and updated him on all of the new information that had been integrated during his recharge.

Internal chronometer informed him that it was late morning. Well past morning prayers and time for his new mate to be up.

A signal rose on his internal HUD, and with a sigh Jazz finally sat up and onlined his optics to look around the room. His frame wanted energon.

He scooted to the edge of the berth, dropped to the floor, and crossed out of the room as quickly as possible. His processor and his sensors were still at odds over the place, and he wasn't in the mood to force himself to start adjusting this particular orn. Though as far as the worst creepy thing he had to adjust to so far, he was counting himself very, very lucky that a weird berthroom aesthetic was it.

Leaving through the same door he'd entered by, the only door he knew of, meant that he walked out into the library and was more than slightly surprised to see his bonded sitting in one of the deeply padded chairs, reading.

Prowl looked up at him. "Energon and a wash?" he took a guess at Jazz's intentions.

"I-yes please." Jazz said as he approached, curiosity reaching out with his field. "I did not expect you to be here."

He was met by calm acceptance and something that might have been amusement. "Even the Barasi has a few orns after bonding to settle. You are welcome to help yourself to whatever is in stock. The morning strength is on your left, the mid-orn in the center and the evening to the right. High grade is on display and the additives are in the drawer on the right. Everything should be labeled for strength and origin."

It made sense that the Barasi would be given time to adjust to what was a change for him as well, Jazz supposed as he went and poured some of the morning energon. His systems wanted the stronger stuff, and he was willing to indulge them as he settled in a chair across from the Praxian. "What else do we need to settle?"

Whatever he was reading was set down and Prowl's full focus went to his bonded. "I believe we have what must be addressed covered. I would like to spend the rest of the time I have free getting to know you better."

"I would like that as well." Jazz agreed, hoping for more insight in to what his mate and legal bonded expected of him, and to what sort of mech Prowl was in general.

Honor had been very free with whatever information she had been able to offer him, but there was always a difference between first and second hand information.

"Tell me about your education, what you were brought up to believe in and respect," Prowl asked once Jazz had several good sips of energon in him.

"I had a complete basic education." Jazz started obediently. "My primary creator then started me in business administration, the numbers and accounting side. That lasted less than a metacycle."

"For lack of comprehension, attention to detail or ability to be still?" Prowl asked with a slightly teasing teek to his field.

Surprise, then pleasure, rippled through Jazz's field. "An inability to be still, mostly due to boredom. I can be still, but I need a good reason. My teacher threatened to walk out, and my mentor, a cousin, threatened to offline me."

He took another sip of his energon, field teeking of his own amusement at the memory. "I was left to my own devices for a while. By accident we found out I had a knack for chatting up mecha and cutting good business deals. My primary creator decided that was good enough, and just set me to work doing that."

"It is a useful skill in almost every time and place," Prowl hummed. "You raced and sang for fun. Any other hobbies?"

"No, not really. I tend to find something I like and concentrate on it. Though the crystals here in the city are amazing..." Jazz admitted, still thinking that he might have found a new hobby, or even an occupation, without meaning too.

"Did you dance at all?" Prowl's voice held a small inflection of hope.

"Just for fun. Natural extension of liking music and being 'too active for his own good' as my creators called it." Jazz smirked a little. "They actually encouraged it when I was younger, before I started racing. Apparently I was least destructive when that was the outlet for my excess energy."

"Understandably so," Prowl gave a knowing smile. "I do not believe you will be lacking in such outlets here. Would you be interested in learning to dance as a skill?"

"Sure. It sounds like fun, and it's already something I like to do. What kind of dancing?" He asked, almost as an afterthought. Anything would be good, but it was more fun if he would like the music that went with it.

"If it can keep your attention, it would give you the greatest flexibility to begin with classical movements and work to expand from that," Prowl hummed thoughtfully. "Since you are planning for the washrack soon anyway, would you mind dancing for me? Something of your choosing, to music of your choice."

Jazz was starting to wonder if this mech was planning to stop surprising him any time soon, but he nodded and tossed back the last of his energon before standing. "Eh, sure. Here?" He asked for clarification as he looked around the neat and tidy library. Between shelving and furniture, it didn't really have the open space he felt he needed to perform.

"I believe the entertainment room is more suitable," Prowl said and stood, motioning his bonded to follow him through a different door, the third of four in this room. It opened to a slightly smaller room, but one with far more open space. There was a couch and large holo-vid center along an inside wall, another small arrangement of four chairs and a table in the corner where wall and window wall met, but mostly it seemed open. "Is this space enough?"

"Plenty." Jazz answered as he turned a circle, wondering if Prowl actually used any of this stuff. The descriptions he had been given of the mech didn't seem to leave much time for such indulgences. It wasn't brand new, but it still seemed of good quality and nothing was antiquated. He watched Prowl turn one of the chairs by the table so he could watch. Then Prowl pinged Jazz the access to the entertainment center and its instructions.

Jazz nodded, partially to the other mecha seated in the room and partially to himself as he activated the system and started scrolling through his options. Finally he reached a selection that he was familiar with, one with a good beat and rhythm but one where the bass would not overly strain his bond's sensors.

Honor had taught him how sensitive the appendages were to various input, and the vibration produced by music was no exception. And...this piece just rode the boundary, letting him test his bonded a little.

Another command and the music started. Jazz let the intro go, listening and feeling it sink into him as the music transitioned into the real piece. Then he started _moving_.

There was nothing professional in the motion, but there was energy and honest enjoyment coupled with natural grace as Jazz twisted and turned. He relaxed more, falling into the music and almost loosing himself from the other in room, the most peripheral of his sensors remained on Prowl, and the rest turned inward.

Prowl did nothing to draw attention to himself. He remained still, watched and listened and felt until the song was done.

Jazz stopped when the song ended, pausing the music to focus back on Prowl. His helm tilted to the side, systems purring happily but barely warm and not even close to being taxed. "More?"

"If you'd like to," Prowl nodded, his focus completely on Jazz. "Perhaps a different type of song."

What Jazz couldn't tell was whether Prowl wanted to see how he moved to different music, or if he didn't like the first one.

For a moment he debated, but it felt so good to just _move_ that Jazz shrugged and scrolled through, choosing a different song. This one had a smoother sound and led him to longer, flowing motions that were slower.

He stopped again with the end of the song, looking to Prowl, curious for feedback.

"You have excellent natural balance and sense of rhythm. Were those songs you've danced to before?" Prowl asked pleasantly.

"The first one many times. The second one I'd only heard once before. And thank you." Jazz added, preening a little at the praise.

Prowl nodded and stood, accessing the system and queuing a slower song, one that Jazz knew was a traditional ball dance but had never paid much attention to. Prowl extended his hand. "Dance with me?"

"Yes." Jazz agreed, hiding the shyness he was not used to as he took Prowl's hand, and hoped that the mecha would forgive him. "Though I haven't done much like this at all. Formal dancing was not something that was popular at home."

Prowl took his hand and gently drew Jazz close. His field was calm, almost soothing. "I am not judging your education," he murmured as he stepped back, into the first stances, something that was easy for Jazz to follow. "You already said you had not been taught. I would like to know how well you follow without knowing the steps."

Jazz nodded, understanding what was expected of him now and dividing his attention between the music and the motion of his mate. Prowl made it easy to follow, and Jazz found himself relaxing and starting to enjoy the exercise. Prowl's field was nice, honest and clean that felt good in a new way. It was rather amazing to be told outright he was being judged and not fear it. He was becoming more certain with every motion that there was not a wrong answer here. Prowl wanted to know, rather than wanted the answer that would be most beneficial to him.

Light gleamed in from the floor to ceiling windows and warmed their plating as they continued from one song to the next. Each was different, each telling Prowl something he wanted to know, but for Jazz the joor passed pleasantly and it was rather startling when he realized that silence had taken the place of a new song. He was also surprised to realize that he was completely at ease in his mate's arms, frame against Prowl's and it was very easy for the other mech to teek the sudden uncertainty as Jazz looked up at him, and then leaned in for a kiss.

A soft hum accompanied Prowl's reply, accepting the kiss and then claiming a soft one of his own.

"You dance very well for an untrained mecha," Prowl's voice was low and quiet, his approval clear in his field at this range. "I will be envied for it once you know the steps."

"Will you teach me yourself, or will I have another tutor?" Jazz asked, shifting a little at the praise. He really wasn't used to so much, but it felt good, down to his spark.

"It will be a tutor," Prowl said without inflection. "Once the bonding sequester is over I will have little time to devote to such things." He reached up to caress Jazz's cheek. "There are other activities I would rather indulge in when we are together."

"Such as?" Jazz prompted, face pressing into the touch.

"Pleasure," Prowl murmured and leaned in for another kiss while his hands slid down Jazz's sides. "The berth is useful for more than to recharge on."

"It is." A shiver followed Prowl's hands down his frame as Jazz murmured in agreement, lips meeting in another kiss, deeper this time. He had never been one to forgo offered pleasure, and the warm invitation surrounding him was very pleasant.

He still wasn't used to the idea of the berthroom they were to share, but he could be distracted with this.

Prowl drew Jazz back, towards the library and the primary door to his berthroom, trading kisses and teasing caresses of frame and field. "What do you enjoy the most?"

"Tough question." Jazz answered with a smile, hands sliding over Prowl's frame, using some of the knowledge gained from his time spent with Honor as they traced into the slender creases of armor seems. "Riding a spike. Or overloading another with spark play."

Prowl shivered. "I would enjoy feeling your valve around me, and your spike deep inside me," he purred with a distinctive flare of arousal across his field as the door to the berthroom chamber opened.

"You like to play too?" Jazz asked, his tone slightly teasing as he nipped at Prowl's neck, a feather light touch that was more a brush of his denta along the fine cables. "Which first?"

"You riding my spike first," Prowl moaned, shameless at indulging his frame. He held still for a moment to simply enjoy the foreplay before drawing them to the berth. "I am a mech. I have desires as all do."

"And what do you desire most for pleasure?" Jazz inquired as he followed Prowl onto the berth, his entire attention focused on the graceful Praxian frame.

"Spark merge," he murmured as they kissed again and Prowl settled himself on his back, his long, slender wings spread to assist his balance and to display them. "It is not something I can indulge in with many."

"But you will try mine?" Jazz asked as he moved to straddle the frame, knees resting on either side of Prowl's hips and allowing him full access to the frame, wings, and lips of his mate. As cold as the mech had been at the ceremony, he was warm now. Very warm, eager even. Maybe Prowl was just the kind that had to warm up before he became friendly. It would hardly be the worst trait to have. If Jazz were honest, it wasn't even a particularly unusual one.

"Yes," Prowl moaned into the kiss. His hands explored Jazz's frame more eagerly, seeking out the best places to touch. The dark mech purred when Prowl's hands found his shoulders, and he moaned when the fingers found their way even deeper into the joint spaces.

"Feels good." Jazz said, reaching back to find the smooth surface of the slender sensor wings, his fingers tracing them with an exact amount of pressure. The frame under him quivered as pleasure danced through Prowl's field.

The Praxian willingly lay there, his frame on offer to this near-stranger that was his bonded, and softly encouraged Jazz to explore. "Is there anything you do not enjoy?"

"Never been much of a bondage mech. Like my freedom too much." Jazz said as his fingers continued to thoroughly explore every inch if the frame stretched out before him, quickly learning the subtle cues of what was good, and what was _better_. "Not much into pain either. But other than that, if it feels good and it's fun, I like it."

"I have never enjoyed pain. I understand it, I must for my function, but it is not for me," Prowl moaned at the attention, then nearly keened when Jazz began kissing his throat once more. His helm tipped back, offering and asking even as his hips rolled up against Jazz's and his hands worked the gaps in Jazz's side armor. "I have found great enjoyment in bondage, particularly being the bound one. It can be very freeing to have no responsibility but to exist and enjoy."

"Then I am sure we can find common ground, since I like to touch and feel." Jazz purred, continuing his attention to the others throat as his hands worked down Prowl's frame to tease at his spike cover. It slid open immediately, the tip already protruding from its housing and Prowl moaned softly.

Jazz liked to be free to touch, to feel, to give an overload even if he didn't receive one in return. There was a power there that was heady and intoxicating, and there was a small hope in him that he might have just found a mech that would be willing to indulge him in his pleasure. From how willing he was to allow Jazz to set the pace, that hope grew a bit. It wasn't just words; Prowl was definitely enjoying this.

With a last gentle kiss to Prowl's lips Jazz shifted his attention, sliding down Prowl's frame to devote much of it to the spike he now very much wanted to encounter.

With a hum of anticipation he leaned down, lips and glossa teasing at the housing, swirling over the tip, and was rewarded by a low moan and surge of pleasure through Prowl's field. One of Prowl's hands found his helm and a thumb began to circle a stubby sensor horn.

The purring intensified, letting Prowl know just how good the touch felt as Jazz's hands moved to stoke the Praxian's hips. Jazz liked for his lovers to feel good, and one thing he really did enjoy doing was learning all of the little tricks that made each one purr and sing his designation. His worries from the ceremony not even a full day-night cycle ago had already faded. His bonded was a reasonable mech, and not cold at all once he warmed up. It just took a while for him to warm up.

Jazz could deal with that.

Bit by bit the surprisingly simple black spike with three white stripes along the length slipped out, along with the faint scent of warming lubricant from the valve below.

Jazz continued to hum, curious as he studied the length for a moment, tracing it with gentle fingers before leaning down to kiss the tip.

His frame gave away how much he was looking forward to this, his valve already exposed and dripping. There were worse things than a relationship built on mutual warmth, affection, and pleasure. And all of those were things that Jazz was starting to see signs of existing in his new bonded, and in himself.

Below him Prowl moan softly at each touch and continued to stroke the sensor horn he'd found. His frame was warming quickly, but other than the occasional small roll of his hips upward, he held fairly still and allowed Jazz to do as he pleased.

With a final lick and kiss Jazz left the spike, shifting his frame so that he could claim another kiss that was returned eagerly. Prowl's hands moved along his back, caressing seams as their glossa caressed and explored. With a low moan, Jazz lined his valve up with the ready spike and sank down slowly.

His valve rippled around the spike, feeling every slow centimeter as Jazz took it in himself. With his lips still against Prowl's, he felt more than heard the deep engine rev and groan of pleasure that surged through the Praxian. Jazz could feel the tension in the frame under him too; Prowl's effort to hold still and not grab and thrust.

A hint of playfulness joined the pleasure in Jazz's field, teasing at the mech beneath him, wondering if Prowl would break before Jazz finished his slow descent. Either way Jazz knew he would enjoy the results, and there was hopefully a next time.

He took a little more of the spike in, pulling back slightly to concentrate some attention on Prowl's neck. The field that had been so absent before flared with hot pleasure and Prowl trembled as his chin tipped up.

With a gasp of pleasure Prowl's hips moved, trying to follow Jazz's as his hands found the Kalisite's aft but didn't apply any downward pressure.

"You can take if you want." Jazz murmured against Prowl's neck, valve still rippling around the spike. "I like that too."

Prowl groaned and flared his wings, using them for leverage as he rolled them over, still connected. He used the momentum of the shift to bury himself fully and moaned at the sensation. He held still for a moment, enjoying being encased in another mecha, before he drew back and drove forward, displaying a strength that his frame shouldn't have sported.

"Oh _yes_." Jazz purred, valve cycling down around the spike filling him and his field flaring out with just how good it all felt, and how much he enjoyed it. The physical of the spike in his valve was good, and the pleasure from Prowl was even better. He didn't really care about the how or oddities through the rest of it, even if they were noted somewhere in he back of his processor for later.

Prowl's mouth found his throat as he set a steady pace intended to build their pleasure quickly with the smooth pull-push slide against sensor nodes.

Jazz purred, valve calipers cycling around the spike in a perfectly matching rhythm. This was one dance that he knew very well, and he had worked hard to perfect. "Good. Fill me, please."

Prowl shivered at the words, lust spiking through his field as he moaned and picked up the pace. His lip plates continued to work Jazz's throat as small shocks of energy zapped from one sensor to the next with each slick slide of spike inside valve. Their arrays met and parted, each movement dragging sound of pleasure from them and sharpening the awareness of the pleasure building in the other's frame.

"Like this very much." Jazz continued to purr, helm dropping back in surrender. His bonded felt so good like this, was so good at creating the pleasure rising in both their frames that he wanted to savor it and return it all at the same time. He reached around, finding the deeper sensors near the base of the sensors wings. Ones that he had learned were so sensitive that just the right pressure could bring pain, or pleasure enough to cause an overload with just a few touches.

And he had no desire to hurt the mech making him feel so absolutely wonderful.

The first stroke caused Prowl's helm to snap back with a startled keen of processor-numbing pleasure. His field surged with it and the lust it created. In a nearly blind grasp Prowl's hand found a sensor horn and rubbed it while his pace picked up, grinding their arrays together as much as thrusting.

The answering surge of pleasure from Jazz was at the response, leaning into the touch on his sensor horn as he stroked the wing sensor once more. He wanted to see his bonded come undone. To see the other lost in pleasure and feel the absolute release, knowing that he was the one who had caused it.

"J-Jazz," Prowl moaned, somehow still aware enough to speak. "Too close," he gasped out, unable to articulate better as his frame arched slightly to press into both sources of pleasure assaulting him.

"Then let go." Jazz urged, still well enough in control of himself to concentrate more on the other mech than he was his own pleasure. Valve calipers cycled down on the next thrust as his fingers stroked over the sensors again. "Don't fight, enjoy." 

He felt the shift in Prowl's field when the older mech did just that. Prowl's hand moved from the sensor horn to Jazz's shoulder, clasping it in a grip that would have been painful to the more sensitive appendage. White optics flared bright and sightless and Prowl's mouth fell open in a scream that was nearly above audial range. With his helm thrown back and hips grinding forward, burst after hot, crackling burst of thick transfluid splashed against the back of Jazz's valve.

Jazz couldn't help but cry out himself at the wonderful waves of pleasure that coursed through his frame with each rush of transfluid. His entire frame shook with the sensation, a feeling that he loved. He managed to keep his vision online, to watch how his new bonded looked and to put the visual and the audio with the wonderful feel of the powerful field flared to wrap all around him.

Slowly, Prowl's frame control came back to him and he sank against Jazz, panting with both intakes and armor to circulate cooler air into his heated internals. 

Jazz welcomed him, kissing him and mouthing at his neck in turn. "Good?"

"Yes," Prowl's harmonics were unsteady but stabilized quickly. "I believe I've ignored my desires for too long. Need to stop forgetting how much I enjoy interfacing."

"I'll help with that." Jazz promised. "Have another round in you?" He asked, valve squeezing suggestively around the spike still buried in him.

Prowl shivered at the rush of sensation. He lifted his helm, frame steadying by the klik, and claimed a long, languid kiss. "Definitely," he purred and rolled his hips.

"Over? So I can give you a show this time?" Jazz suggested, perfectly willing to do whatever his mate wanted at the moment.

"I would enjoy that," Prowl purred with another kiss and carefully rolled them over until Prowl was on his back once more, his wings sprawled out on display. He ran his hands down Jazz's back. "Do give me a show."

Jazz kissed and nuzzled him again before shifting slowly upright, fingers tracing lightly down Prowl's frame as he did so. "You felt so good, I should do something in return." He purred, lifting himself slowly until just the tip of the spike touched his valve.

"I liked when you called my designation." He admitted, valve calipers cycling as he sank slowly down on the spike. When their interface arrays touched he slowed, rolling them together for a moment before rising once more. "I'd like to hear it again."

"Jazz," Prowl moaned softly as he watched his bonded move slowly up and down his spike. His gaze fixed on the black and white disappear into the frame and the surges of pleasure it brought. His gaze moved up to watch Jazz's expression while his hands stroked along the dark sides to tease at Jazz's hips.

Sighs and sounds of bliss accompanied each rise and fall as Jazz allowed some of his attention to focus completely on the stretch of the spike hitting the primed sensors in his valve, the charge already high and only growing as his speed increased. His visor dimmed with the shift in focus, and his expression softened to one of enjoyment. He felt the flare of arousal that came from his new bonded at his display and his pleasure and felt just a little better once more. It was always telling whether a lover got off on another's pleasure as well as their own.

Strong red hands moved along Jazz's front, exploring headlights, seams and light armor plating before settling on Jazz's hips once more and stroking the edges of his spike cover with both thumbs.

Each touch sent a delicious ripple of pleasure through Jazz's field, but it was the touch to his spike cover that refocused some of his attention. His visor lit as he focused on Prowl, a small smile gracing his faceplates. "May I?" He asked, seeking permission.

"Of course," Prowl purred, rubbing the seams again as he moaned softly. "I'd like to see what I'll soon feel."

The cover slid away at his suggestive touch, the dark tip of a spike just poking out of the housing as Jazz slowed, the rising and fall shrinking to a steady grinding motion. With optics locked onto the gleaming black tip, Prowl slid a thumb inward to stroke the housing, then matched the movement on the other side.

Jazz allowed his frame to fall forward just a bit, bracing over Prowl as he enjoyed the touch. A few strokes and there was the soft sound of the catch releasing as his spike started to pressurize.

The gleaming black length was marked with twin spirals of green and silver from tip to base, simple looking and elegant.

"Very attractive," Prowl's purr deepened as he shifted his attention to stroking the sleek, sensitive metal while his hips continued to rock into Jazz's motions. "This will feel very good."

"Hope so." Jazz agreed, spike pressing into Prowl's hand as he started to rock once more, valve rippling around the spike still in him and actively starting to seek the release his frame and processor were both demanding he find. Prowl's hand was warm around his spike and felt wonderful, a counter-pleasure to the fullness sliding inside his valve.

"You do look good like this," Prowl rumbled, his thrusts becoming a bit more forceful as his charge built to the stage where it was difficult to hold back.

"Good that I please you." Jazz answered, helm falling back as he matched the motion and more, driving up and down. Small whispers of energy started to flicker across his armor, teasing at Prowl and revealing just how charged and close the other was.

"You do," Prowl shivered, thrusting his hips up when Jazz came down while he stroked Jazz's spike, his thumb circling the head. "Overload for me."

Whether it was taken as a command or permission was irrelevant as Jazz gave in to the charge of his frame, surrendering to the energy built up inside of him and to the lover playing him so well.

The spike in Prowl's hand jerked, spilling charged transfluid over the Praxian as the valve around his spike rippled and grabbed and energy crackled from the lining to the spike filling it.

It all drove Prowl to his second overload of the joor and he shifted his grip to Jazz's hips just before surrendering completely to the pleasure surging through his circuits with a roar and hard drive upwards to deliver the first rush of transfluid deep into his lover.

This time it was Jazz's turn to settle forward as his processor slowly rebooted from the rush of energy sensory overload that had temporarily shorted out his awareness. He purred as he snuggled against the warm frame under his, momentarily sated. He only became aware that his lover had shut down when he realized the sound and vibration under him was increasing from not even a whisper to something detectable.

That fact, once it sunk in, had Jazz preening a little. As he regained control of his frame he started stroking the Praxian gently, retracing the smooth lines of the other's chest and helm as he waited for Prowl to regain some sort of coherency.

He could learn to like sharing the Praxian's berth very much, if Prowl would indulge him like this every now and then.

Prowl hummed, warm and pleased, as he became self-aware again. Slowly his hands moved from Jazz's hips to stroke up his back. "That was very good."

"I think so too." Jazz agreed, turning his helm to nuzzle Prowl. "Still want my spike in your valve?"

Prowl turned his helm to claim a kiss. "After energon, and perhaps a little talking. We have time to be lazy for now."

Jazz like for this mech was only continuing to grow as he accepted and returned the affection. With another small nuzzle he righted himself, lifting slowly off his bonded and settling to one side. "Both of those sound very nice. What would you like?"

"Solar with .5% sulfur," Prowl decided.

With a small nod Jazz rose from the berth and made his way out of the berthroom. It took a moment to orient himself to where he was and where the enegon was kept, and a reminder to himself that this was how things were to be from now on.

Prowl was not just another lover. No matter how nice he was, Prowl was his bonded and dominate mate. That meant that it was Jazz's place to serve him now, a fact that was still integrating into his coding and his acceptance.

With a soft vent he fetched the energon exactly to Prowl's specification, and chose some for himself as well. An energy rich but plainer blend that would refuel his systems after the energy expenditure.

His tread was soft as he returned, stopping as the edge of the berth and offering Prowl his energon first.

"Thank you," Prowl accepted it and sipped from the cube without hesitation. No fear of poison or that it might be wrong.

It was noted and filed away as well.

"You're welcome." Jazz murmured, producing his own energon and twitching a little as he waited for an invitation to rejoin Prowl on the berth. He teeked a flicker of surprise from Prowl when the mech glanced up at him.

"You are always welcome here," Prowl patted the berth next to him.

That was a welcome invitation, and Jazz's field said as much as he settled back on the berth, close enough to teek easily but not touching and started in on his own energon.

The subordinate mate coding that had been installed and was still integrating was going to take some time and getting used to, and it was uncomfortable every time it pushed at Jazz to do something he wouldn't have before.

"Do you have any questions of me?" Prowl offered to talk about himself, or whatever else Jazz wanted to discuss.

Jazz settled on the berth, contemplating that. "Tell me of your function?" He asked finally, curious to know how Prowl saw what he did, as compared to what others had told him that Prowl did.

One sensor wing twitched with a flicker of surprise across Prowl's field before he put the answer together. "It is very structured. Six cycles within thirty-two cycles within eight cycles within nine cycles. My primary function, legally, is to provide a direct connection between the people of Praxus and Primus, both through my spark and through the Prime. A more practical truth is that I keep the Lord of the City and his kin in check, lead services here and for important occasions and organize the function and future of the Order in Praxus. I review and authorize requests for supplies, construction, loans, celebrations, official attendance by members of the Order, messages to the Prime through the Order...."

Jazz felt himself begin to glaze over slightly as the list seemed to go on forever.

No wonder his bonded was a busy mech.

By the time Prowl paused, Jazz had given up trying to process it all, and just decided that it might be easier to look up a list later if he wanted to know what all his mate did. "Perhaps I should have asked what you do not see to, since it sounds like that list might be shorter. Or maybe I should have asked what you like to do best, out of all that your function requires?"

Prowl chuckled softly. "What I enjoy most is the managerial duties, though I also find great reward in the orns that I can go among the people and help those who need assistance. Part of me will never forget what I was originally created to be and revels in anything that comes close."

"An Enforcer?" Jazz asked, field teeking hesitant curiosity. "Do you ever regret that your spark was different than the others?"

"Early on, yes. It was not an easy transition to make, even though I was wiped of all the code they could, there are still remnants of what I had been called to be," Prowl admitted quietly between sips of energon. "Fortunately both functions have much in common as well as differences. My instructors and guardians were often tolerant of my needs that could not be completely quelled."

"How do you manage to get it all done?" Jazz asked, starting to understand now really how little time Prowl was going to have for him.

"When I was upgraded to a priest's frame, at least as much as they were able, my spark took the improved materials and began to make changes. It was deemed to be my gift so they continued to feed it, much as one would a sparkling who is in a protoform growth phase," Prowl said, relaxing with the energon between his hands. "The end result was a processor system that is spread through much of my core frame. I have been told that the system is nearly as powerful as those Praxus herself possesses and are of a very similar design. It makes management multi-tasking come very easily to me. It also means I become restless, irritable and occasionally aggressive when they are not properly managed. Or as my first guardian phrased it, I'm easily bored and difficult to control when bored."

The difference was just something else that marked his bonded as special, and made Jazz feel slightly inadequate next to the mecha. Even if Jazz didn't believe in Primus much beyond an abstract it sounded as though there were bigger plans than being a mere Enforcer for Prowl, and that Prowl had found them as well.

"Was Prowl your original designation?"

"Yes," he said with a slight smile. "My original advancement plan was geared to becoming a pursuit detective once I had done my time as a patrol officer and regular detective. I was called to a frame that was built for hunting and taking down very dangerous criminals on the run. It was strong, fast and silent for its size with a powerful processor even for a detective and advanced sensor and communications suite. It was not the quality I have now, though it was unusually expensive for an enforcer. Only a handful of pursuit detectives are called for every century. Almost all are to replace one that has deactivated."

"And you kept it when you changed functions." Jazz commented, sliding a bit closer and found a warm welcome there. That explained a lot about the other mecha, including the power behind the frame that Jazz had not been expecting.

"It is my designation." It was all Prowl could say. All he could think to say. He'd never been asked about his designation before, not like this at least. "It still suits me."

Jazz leaned up against the other, the contact light but welcome. "Are there things that you like to do outside of your function?"

"I still race when I can make time for it," Prowl's engine purred softly with many pleasant memories. "I enjoy sparring as well, though it's questionable whether that is not a duty. Activities that work my frame more than my processor."

That explained Prowl's approval of his racing hobby as well, Jazz supposed, leaning into the comfortable field without thought. "Maybe some orn we can make time for a match. I would like that."

"I would enjoy that as well," Prowl's purr deepened. "Perhaps before my leave is over?"

"If we can go out, that sounds like fun." Jazz really wasn't sure what Prowl had planned for the time that he did not have to serve the temple, and if he even wanted to be seen with Jazz so soon in public.

"We can go out. It's simply a question on whether we make it out," he purred with a flare of arousal and shifted to kiss Jazz's neck. "I will plan for it."

Jazz surrendered willingly to the touch, helm falling to one side to allow the Praxian better access to cables there. As he his hands fell to caress the other's frame he was very glad that he had chosen real energon, and that he had finished it all while there were talking. He was going to enjoy burning through it all again.

* * *

Jazz slowed and transformed, his frame still vibrating even if he was much more settled than he had been when they first arrived. The smooth surface of the track felt good under his pedes, graded to the perfect pitch as few were. Not that the establishment that served the elite and nobles of Praxus would boast anything less than perfection.

His attention shifted back to his mate, trying to gauge Prowl's mood after having manage to defeat Jazz a second time out of three races. Even without teeking, the wingset, relaxed and waving gently, was a mark of a very good mood for Praxians. Prowl also showed clear signs of enjoyment, subtle as they were in him. The mech had not been joking that he enjoyed racing on a core level.

"Hey Prowl," a deep voice called for the mech's attention when Prowl came to a stop not far from Jazz. "If your bonded wants to socialize, I'm up for a rematch."

Question flickered across Prowl's field, directed to Jazz.

As unsure as he was of his position and actual status, Jazz wavered for only a moment. "I'd rather stay with you." He informed his mate quietly, then motioned the entrance of the track. "But I don't mind waiting here while you have a rematch."

"Later, Lockcheck," Prowl canted his wings politely. "My duty is to my bonded until he is settled."

"Sure thing," the high-ranked Enforcer said cheerfully, his wings returning the slight nod. "I'm glad you've got something in common," he said to them both. "Politicals can be bad matches."

"Yes," Prowl said sadly with a reassuring brush of his field towards Jazz. "I am very lucky that way. I will see you at the Royal Gala next metacycle?"

"Since I can't get out of it," the Lord of Law huffed in good nature. "Have a good evening."

"Good evening," Prowl canted his wings slightly before the ranking Enforcer left and motioned Jazz to continue their walk to the exit. "Lockcheck is the ranking Enforcer in Praxus, the Lord of Law. He is not a noble, only ranked among them."

"Lord by title, not by lineage." Jazz said, checking to make sure that he understood correctly as he fell into step beside Prowl.

"Yes," Prowl's field brushed against him with a bit of affection and approval. "He rose through the ranks as all officers do. He is very good at his function. We share that we miss patrols and chasing criminals."

"I would have been happy to wait." Jazz added, more quietly. "I do not wish to interfere with anything that you enjoy."

"You are my bonded. While you have many duties to me, I also have duties to you," Prowl explained quietly as they walked, their two guards slowly drawing closer as they left the relative protection of the noble's area and into the public. They still kept a couple lengths behind- close enough to help if needed, but far enough back that they weren't actually with them. "Among my duties is to be with you. Though I am growing quite certain that is will be less a duty and more a pleasure. He was correct. We have enough in common to get along well, I believe."

"It is something I am glad to find as well." Jazz agreed, his field revealing a little of how he had dreaded the bonding when he had found out about it.

There had been no point in protesting. His primary creator had little sympathy for what his creations wanted on a personal level, and Jazz had seen what had happened to others who had rebelled. What he was finding in Praxus was turning into far more than just the tolerable function that he had hoped for.

"Will I be expected to attend the Ball with you?" He asked, refocusing on Prowl and the conversation that he had overheard.

"Yes. You will be expected to socialize and dance with me. Being so new to Praxus there will be some latitude given this vorn if you wish to hide by remaining on my arm for the evening. It is the first large event that you will have a role to play in. In general you should expect a major event every metacycle and something at least once a decaorn where you are to attend. Most will require little but your presence. A few will demand more."

"I look forward to having an excuse to dance with you regularly, if nothing else." Jazz replied, looking at the positive in the situation.

"That will be a very pleasant change from the usual for me," Prowl agreed before transforming. ::Though at several events you will have to share. There are a few whom I can not turn down by having my bonded there.::

::I don't mind.:: Jazz replied, the honesty clear as he transformed as well. ::Your duty will always come first, and your pleasure.::

The first part of that was all Jazz. He did not mind if his bonded danced or interfaced or whatever with others. That was Prowl's right. The second part was much more the code talking, but code that Jazz was slowly starting to settle in to without as much trouble as he had first feared.

They traveled in relative silence to the temple complex and transformed to walk once inside. Once they were in the relative privacy of the lift to their suite -- Jazz just couldn't call an entire floor quarters -- Prowl spoke again. "Do you have any concerns, or ideas that bother you?"

The darker mech considered, giving the question some serious thought as they headed to the washrack to clean up from being outside. "There is much for me to learn, and coding that I am still adjusting to. I have yet to find anything that I cannot tolerate, or will not adjust to. Honor did as much as she was able, I think, to prepare me for what to expect that was different from what a subordinate mate is to normally expect."

"What are the most noticeable differences that you are aware of?" Prowl asked as he carefully separated his sensor wing fingers to clean the seams.

"The amount of freedom that you are allowing me. The fact that there seems to be very little for me to see to on a regular orn to orn basis." Jazz started, the movement of Prowl's sensor wings catching his attention and momentarily interrupting his train of thought. Quietly he picked up the softest and finest of brushes and approached his mate, ready to begin cleaning the hard to reach appendages.

"What did you expect to have for duties?" Prowl glanced at him, paused, and then presented his back. "Thank you."

Jazz shrugged before he started working carefully on the sensor wings. "In Kalis my duties might have ranged anywhere from entertaining myself in the house to running it, as the subordinate mate. In a temple setting, I was not sure what to expect. Honor mostly warned me that you would have little time to spend with me, and that you would likely not be interested in creating any sort of family."

Despite the way he leaned into Jazz's touch, there was a sad acceptance in Prowl's field. "I do not have the time to be a creator. You will understand better when I return to my duties. I do not have time to be a good mate, much less more."

"So I was warned. I will adjust." Jazz said quietly. he had little choice but to do so, or things would go as they would. "The temple culture is not well known is Kalis. Faith in Primus itself is...personal."

"It has been noticed," Prowl said softly with a sigh of pleasure at the attention to his sensor wing. "The city does not have a particularly well-suited Barasi for the job he has. I will do all I can to help you prepare for life here. Tutors and delaying your participation in events. Within the temple there will be more understanding than among the nobility." He paused. "What do you believe?"

"I think he's there." Jazz admitted, stopping to pay special attention to a place that had acquired an extra layer of grime. "Other than that...I don't know. But an actual presence in our functioning? No."

Prowl hummed, both thoughtful and with pleasure. "Do you know why you believe, and do not believe?"

Against everything Jazz expected, Prowl's field did not teek of anger, or offense, or really anything other than honest curiosity and acceptance.

"Sparks come from somewhere, and it's nice to think that they go back to somewhere. It might as well be Primus as anything else."

Jazz stepped back once he was done with the sensor wings, putting the supplies aside. "But why would he have any sort of interest in the orn to orn activities of common mecha? I've never seen anything to convince me that he cares."

"In that sense you are correct by all I have come to understand," Prowl said as he gave himself a final rinse, then turned his shower off to walk to the dryer.

Jazz paused, the reply rather cryptic to him. Then with a shrug he stepped under the solvent and started scrubbing his own frame. If his mate had better answers than the ones he had gotten before, great.

If not, Jazz had long ago been told to stop asking questions about Primus. As a youngling he had thought it was because it was a 'grown-up' something. As a mechling he had discovered it was because no one had answers, and it wasn't something that anyone wanted to waste time on.

When Prowl stepped out of the dryer he spoke again. "Primus does not concern himself with what we do orn to orn. He is our creator, and we are mature creations. It is not his place to dictate our activities on that level. However, just like a good creator, he is there when one needs him, and understands that creations need to make their own choices and mistakes, and take the consequences. All he can do is offer advice, moral support and a place to retreat to when existence becomes too much."

"And how does he offer those things?" Jazz asked, his tone rather disbelieving as he turned, bending around to scrub at his own flanks and back as best he could.

Without being asked, Prowl picked up a brush and moved to help with the places Jazz couldn't reach himself. "On the purest level, advice and support come to your spark. That which came from him and will return to him. It is a creator bond that can not be broken, even if few can feel it anymore. It is regrettable how few mecha know how to listen to their spark these orn. It is why the Order of Primus and priests came into being. Those mecha who could listen easily gave advice when asked. We gathered when we could and wrote down what we knew so the common questions could be answered without opening the connection so fully. As more mecha came to be, the Prime enlisted us to help manage and spread the word, for she could no longer speak with each mecha independently. Thus we became an Order, an institution, with the boons and banes that all institutions have."

"You're already dry." Jazz pointed out when he noticed Prowl approaching, knowing the solvent would get on his mate no matter how careful Prowl was in trying to help. It also was a way for Jazz to try and gain more time to try and process what he had just been told. 

The idea was so foreign to him. In Kalis, Primus was a merely an ideal, a being that one spoke of, not always well, and mostly forgot about.

"You are not finished," Prowl said, but he backed off anyway. "I will be in the library when you are ready."

Jazz's field rippled with confusion and stress, quickly hidden, and he nodded. "I will come there."

With that he turned back to rinse, his back to his mate and his field pulled in close. No, he had not been done. But Prowl had. There was no justification in the other having to dry once more because Jazz was not done.

At least, the sub coding was insisting on that fact. Jazz himself wanted the attention, the touch, and the conflict was enough to make him quiver slightly in frustration. With a soft growl he finished washing and drying. For a moment he paused, looking at the polish that was available, then brushed off the thought.

He would worry about such things if they were to go out again, but so far Prowl had not expressed a preference for his appearance in private, and Jazz did not feel like putting in the extra effort.

It was in this same apathetic mood that he finally made his way to the library, obediently showing up as he had said he would.

"Come here," Prowl said as he put down his bookfile and opened his arms.

Once more Jazz was obedient, careful as he slipped into the other's arms, still confused. One klik Prowl seemed perfectly happy for Jazz to play the subordinate mate dancing attendance. The next he was doing confusing things like this.

"Tell me what upset you," Prowl's tone was gentle, but there was no way to take the words as anything short of an order.

"I don't know what you want of me." Jazz explained. "You aren't a noble, this isn't normal. I'm trying!" The frustration rose again, and Jazz so desperately wanted to lash out at something or someone. "One klik you seemed pleased with my actions, then next I have done something to displease you." He tried to explain, at least able to speak freely at Prowl's command.

"You have done nothing to displease me, Jazz." Prowl said very seriously as he stroked Jazz's sides and back, trying to reassure and calm. "If I find something unacceptable, I _will_ tell you, clearly and specifically. All right?"

Jazz vented softly, not really relaxing, but at least accepting. "All right." He shifted a little, still not sure. "Why did you leave, then?"

"I teeked that you were upset and having difficulty processing what I said. I thought you wanted some time alone to process it," Prowl explained. "Did I misjudge?"

"I was more confused by why you would risk getting wet again by helping me clean, then leaving." Jazz admitted. "The rest of it I left to sort out on it's own."

"You are my mate. I may not be around often, but when I am I intend to indulge you fully." Prowl said with a nuzzle. "I do not find getting wet again to do so a deterrent. I dried off because I thought you had finished before you came to help me."

"So here, in private, what do you expect of me?" Jazz asked, focusing in on a question that, if he could get a clear answer, would make his functioning much easier.

Prowl was silent for a long klik, sensing that the question was more important than it should be and needed a solid answer. "I expect you to be here when I am. You will have a schedule to let you know when I expect your presence and where. Here, in private, I would have an equal, a mate. A mech that does not view me as their superior or one they must dance attendance to. What I want most is what I can not have out there; an equal."

The sounds the escaped Jazz as that settled in one was one of relief. That, he could do. That, he could be. The two different roles, outside and inside, now that they were defined, he could be.

"Thank you." He breathed as he finally and truly relaxed in Prowl's arms.

"Will you explain why it caused you so much distress not to know?" Prowl asked gently, holding his bonded and trying to be something, a _mate_ , that he'd never given enough thought to understand.

"Code. Tradition. Social norm. Your preferences." Jazz said, rattling off the main factors with ease. "I couldn't decide from your actions what your preferences were. To know that you expect me to be the traditional subordinate mate in public, but that I have permission to act otherwise when we are alone, settled a great deal."

"Code?" Prowl prodded at the one he didn't immediately understand.

"Mate code." Jazz said, tilting his helm to look at Prowl, his expression suggesting that he was explaining something perfectly normal. "Once it settled on the fact that you were my bonded and that I was the subordinate mate it started to change, shaping me into a mate specifically for you."

Prowl offlined his optics and shuttered them, forcing himself to be calm and focus. With a long, slow x-vent he looked at Jazz. "Can I order it to shut down?"

The mech in his arms frowned as he considered the question. "I don't think so. I'm not sure that I have ever heard of anyone trying. It's normal. Every mecha has it. Why would you want to?"

"Because Primus gave us free will. It goes against everything I am, everything I have spent my existence being taught and believing in, to have a slave." Prowl struggled to explain something so very fundamental to him that was clearly very alien to the mech he was holding. "I do not want you to be changed for my benefit. It is wrong."

"Mate coding is slave coding here?" Jazz repeated, feeling rather lost. He didn't _like_ the code, but it was normal. It would have swung the other way if he had been the dominate mate. The fact that he was a sub had it clashing with his natural personality, and resulting in most of the confusion and conflict that Prowl had been witness too so far.

"What you've described is the worst class of slave coding, no matter what it is called," Prowl said gently. "All slave coding is illegal in Praxus, along with slavery."

Jazz finally just shrugged and gave up trying to figure it all out. "In Kalis, it's normal. If you want to try and do something with it, that's your decision as my mate."

The proper answer and the truth lined up, making the words come easy. Jazz had always known about the code, and he wasn't about to get his hopes up that he might actually be able to live without it. The most that he had thought he could hope for Prowl had already given him- permission to still be himself.

"Does it bother you, when it makes changes?" Prowl shifted his focus, taking this rare chance to speak to someone who wasn't completely insane or processor-dead with such active slave coding. He was already making arrangements with several specialists to review Jazz's code and see what could be done about it.

"Sometimes." Jazz admitted, snuggling into the warm field and frame and still a little amazed that Prowl had not known about the code, and also amazed that he was so at ease discussing it with the other mech. "I'm not naturally a subordinate personality. It's gotten me in trouble more than a few times. Mostly it's just frustration when it prompts me to do something that I would not normally have done."

"Any examples you care to share?" Prowl phrased it carefully so Jazz had an easy way to refuse.

"Mostly just infighting with my siblings. My primary creator did not tolerate such things well once we were out of the youngling phase." Jazz mused. "I only ever openly disagreed with him to his face once. The results were...not pleasant."

The truth was Jazz had not been sure that he was going to survive the punishment his creator had concocted. He was well aware that not all of his siblings were still functioning, and that natural causes were not entirely to blame.

After that he had approached his battles much more carefully when his creator was involved, and he been thankful when he had found something, an occupation, that his creator had approved of.

"Since I have been here..." Jazz thought about it for a moment. "It would not have been my first thought to fetch us energon the other orn, and bring yours back to you in the berth."

"It was nice, though," Prowl murmured. "Do you believe you would find the code useful for anything, given that I do not want it to change you any more?"

"It will considerably shorten the time that it takes for me to act acceptably with you in public, and it might keep me from making mistakes." Jazz admitted. "But as far as I know it won't stop changing me. Like when we were racing, when I held back on the first and the last races. The first one was intentional. The last one was not."

Prowl couldn't hide that he was startled by that revelation. "All right. This is an order. Answer me honestly, without any coding influence. Do you want to be rid of the mate coding?"

There was a long stretch of silence, and Jazz actually quivered a little in Prowl's arms. To obey he had to dig deep, very deep. The code had already changed him so much that his first answer, the one that had almost spilled out as soon as Prowl had finished voicing the question, was no.

It was a struggle, a spark deep search with an answer that he almost couldn't give. And when he finally did, it was barely audible. "I would like to try functioning without it."

"Then I will do all I can to allow you to," Prowl promised. "The best coding specialists in Praxus will see you in the next decaorn. They will give us a good foundation for the risks and probability of removing it." He nuzzled Jazz up for a kiss. "In the meantime, I wish you to act like yourself whenever possible. You do not need to let me win in races, ever. If you desire something, say so, even if you think I might not be pleased by it. It is all right to disagree with me, particularly in private. If you do not desire to interface, tell me so and I will honor it. I desire an equal, as much as is possible. Tell the coding that in the meantime. I do not want it to change you. I do not want a servant in these quarters. I do not want you to fear me."

Jazz whimpered softly as all of that settled in, integrating into and altering the code in a series of transitions so fast they hurt as strings of command were deleted, altered, created, and rewritten.

By the time it was all done there was the audible sound from his frame of the strain his processor had been putting it through.

But the kiss that Prowl was offered as soon as Jazz could focus again was full of passion and a flavor of desire very different from anything the Praxian had been offered before and Prowl moaned deeply into it, relishing it and treasuring it as his internal temperature shot up.

"Is this ... what your lovers felt?" Prowl asked when they finally parted. "Those you chose to be with because you desired them?"

"Much closer." Jazz murmured, claiming another tender kiss. "But not quite. With them, there was no promise of later, only the moment. Now..."

Now he had the moment, and hope of later. Of a relationship longer than a few orns, or if he was lucky, a few decaorns. A chance that someone might want him and care about him not because he was a noble or had connections, but because he was Jazz.

"I want to earn what you give me," Prowl shivered at the intensity of his reaction. "Want this to be honest. I will try to be a good mate. I ask for your patience when my duties take me away."

"And I have to ask for yours with me as I'm learning." Jazz said, the smile on his face honest, and his field the brightest it had been since his arrival. "If we both are willing to try, maybe this thing will work."

"I intend to try, and I give you my patience and my protection while you learn," Prowl promised, a knot uncoiling deep inside him. "I may not be the best mate, but I will do my best to be a good mate."

"Me too." Jazz agreed, leaning in for another kiss, his field full of warmth, offering, and the first whispers of honest affection.

* * *

For the second outing into Praxus, Jazz wasn't nearly so enthusiastic, though he willingly admitted that it was for a far better reason and said a lot more of his bonded's intentions towards him than a willingness to race. They were headed for the Praxus Coding Facility. He had no idea what he was expecting, but Prowl was calm so Jazz tried to be. Despite that, Jazz almost missed turning in tandem with Prowl when the older mech turned into what seemed to be a garden. It was hard to keep up with Prowl once they were in too, the crystal around them capturing his attention and reminding him of the first thing that had fascinated him about the city of Praxus.

The winding, two-lane path eventually led to a small building only a few stories tall and of beautiful, black mirror crystal. It looked like it should be an art gallery or temple rather than a hospital of some kind. Yet Prowl drove up to the front door and transformed.

"This is a medical facility?" Jazz asked, looking the building over curiously and comparing it to what he had known back in Kalis.

"Yes. Most mecha who come here are badly damaged. It assists the healing process to have it be beautiful and secluded from the outside," Prowl explained before entering to a foyer that was just as stunning as the outside. It reached all the way to the roof with lifts that traveled in spiral tubes of the same mirrored black crystal while the rest of the interior was of white, glowing crystals with various light tints. Even with only a few orns in Praxus, Jazz was reasonably sure that everything here was designed to make the natives feel at ease. It definitely had the same aesthetic as the temple, but less austere.

Jazz was not terribly at ease in the place, simply because of the change it represented. Another new unknown loomed before him, and he moved closer to Prowl without thinking.

Prowl was known, and the only thing that resembled safety at the moment.

"Barasi Prowl, Lord Jazz, welcome," a warm, smooth voice greeted them and Jazz turned to see a white and off-blue Praxian mech with three sensor wing panels. The insignia for a processor specialist was embossed on his chest in a glimmering silver with a gold outline. "I am Physcian Peace Code. Please come with me."

Prowl canted his sensor wings in respect and followed. Jazz took his cues from his mate, a small bow of his head echoing the respectful gesture of Prowl's wing speak before they moved to follow the specialist into a private room that was the very opposite of the foyer. It was softly lit, with a relatively low ceiling and dark colors in metal and crystal. It was warmer too, though only by a few degrees. From the way Prowl relaxed, it was designed to feel comforting, safe.

Prowl guided Jazz to one of the chairs opposite where the specialist sat in an intimate nook in the office and they settled.

"Jazz, speak freely and accurately to the physcian," Prowl's instructions were given in the firm voice he'd used when instructing Jazz to tell him if he'd wanted the code to remain.

With a steadying cycle of air Jazz nodded and obeyed, beginning with what the code was supposed to do by noticing and encouraging actions that would be pleasing to his dominate mate. He explained that it was standard in Kalis, and thought nothing of it until Prowl had expressed displeasure at its existence.

He also cited several of the examples that had been obvious to him on a personal level. The serving of the energon, and the holding back to make Prowl look good in the presence of other mecha when they had raced together.

Peace Code hummed his understanding and jotted down notes, listing carefully to all Jazz said and how he said it. When Jazz fell silent, kind, warm blue optics settled on Jazz's green visor. "Prowl is correct that in Praxus such code is considered highly invasive slave code. It is illegal here. You are very lucky that it was brought to our attention so soon after activation. What has been changed we can not undo. However we are very successful in removing such code from mecha with minimal risk of a glitch settling in. From what you describe I would consider the risk negligible."

"Define 'negligible'," Prowl insisted.

"Less than 0.01%." Peace Code responded, well aware of Prowl's quirks and personal investment in this case.

"What sort of 'glitches'?" Jazz asked, aware that he might be speaking out turn, and therefore keeping his voice soft enough that both mecha could easily pretend that he had not spoken.

"Without examining it fully, the most likely glitches include an inability to directly object to Prowl's actions or choices, or fixating on something, like his energon, to an unhealthy extent. The fixation is the more likely one, since it already has a hold in your processor." Peace Code explained. "A great deal depends on the exact coding and how integrated it is with your OS. Issues have always been related to the edits the code was making at the time it is removed."

Jazz shifted in his chair and nodded, accepting that fact and wondering if it was worth the risk. As small as it seemed, he still wanted to try. But from the sound of it he would not be the only one suffering if something went wrong.

"It is your choice to proceed at each step, Jazz," Prowl focused on him, quiet and earnest. "Right now they are only going to examine the code. It means lowering all your firewalls and allowing Peace Code as deep inside your processor as he needs to go. He will not change anything this time."

The hesitation was clear, but Jazz nodded in understanding, his field reaching out to brush against Prowl's in thanks. "I understand. Whenever he wishes to look, I'm ready."

"We can begin now, here," Peace Code offered. "Just relax and open your medical port."

The words were easier for Jazz to process than the actions to obey themselves. Even though it shouldn't, it felt as though the code was fighting against the mere idea that he was going to try and eliminate it. It was almost a full klik later before he nodded to the specialist that he was ready.

The medical connection was smooth, and Peace Code lived up to his designation. His entry was as smooth and calming as his field, even settling the mate coding to an extent as he began a gentle but thorough examination and download of large swaths of Jazz's coding.

Slowly Jazz resigned himself to watching and waiting, not wanting to interfere and possibly cause Peace Code to miss anything.

Still, by the time that it was over he was hoping that the specialist really just was taking his time and being thorough as he seemed to search through every aspect of Jazz's code. If the code was as extensive as it seemed, Jazz was starting to have his doubts on both the feasibility and worth of trying to remove it.

"So, the good news or not so good new first?" Peace Code asked when he settled back to give Jazz his space once more.

"The bad news?" Jazz suggested, wanting that first but still itching from having the code messed with, now even more aware as it played games in and with his processors.

"It is solidly designed, well-integrated from very early and expansive in scope," Peace Code said simply, accepting the tension the statement created. "The good news is that I found nothing in your coding that indicates it has done serious damage to your ability to think and make choices. It is also fairly well crafted, which means that as arduous as the scrubbing will be, it is much more likely to end well than the force-installed slave coding we typically have to deal with. This was designed with the intent that you continue to be a fully functional mecha."

"That is good news, overall," Prowl decided. "How long will you need to study it before attempting to remove it?"

"I would like five orns," Peace Code requested.

"I will return to my duties before then," Prowl turned to Jazz. "I may not be able to be here, though I will try."

"I understand." Jazz replied, settling again as he processed the timing and all of the facts. "Will I need to remain here while the code is being studied?"

"No. I copied all I believe I need of it. I will contact you if I need to see you before the operation," Peace Code assured him. "I can only recommend that Prowl be careful of how he speaks to and around you, something I am sure he is already doing. I know how much he dislikes compliance coding of all kinds."

"I will give it as little as possible to use," Prowl promised, spoken to Jazz rather than the specialist.

Jazz nodded as they took their leave from the specialist, not speaking until they were in relative private once more.

"I'm sorry I'm causing you so much trouble." Jazz apologized, the words teeking of his own sincerity and nothing of the code.

"You are forgiven. Mates want what is best for each other," Prowl told him with a gentle brush of his field. "What would you like to do with the rest of the orn?"

"Would you show me some of Praxus? Place you like? While we have some time?" Jazz requested.

"I would be pleased to," Prowl gave him a small smile as they joined their honor guard of three outside. "Perhaps The Lord Skyshard Art Gallery?"

"What sort of art?" Jazz asked, his field eager and full of agreement.

"Many kinds. It displays works by various Praxian masters throughout history," Prowl smiled at Jazz's pleasure. "Paintings, statues, engravings, crystal, fractal, light. Do any appeal to you more than others?"

"Anything that has to do with the crystals has my attention." Jazz admitted with a small laugh.

"I think that can be arranged," Prowl said with an affectionate brush of his field and transformed to drive to what turned out to be a tower in its own right, all dedicated to the artistic accomplishments of exceptional citizens. It was a palace, as fine as the temple Jazz now lived in, dedicated to fine arts and open to the people to share its treasures. 

The building alone had Jazz pausing to look up in wonder as they transformed, a work of art in it's own right. It reminded Jazz of his arrival and the thoughts that Praxus was so much richer and fixated on appearances than Kalis. If this and the temple were examples of fairly public buildings, what might the palace of the Lord of Praxus look like?

"Come," Prowl said gently when he felt that Jazz had stared at the exterior enough.

"Why does Praxus place such an emphasis on appearances?" Jazz asked he was guided inside on his mate's arm.

"In part because we can," he said as he guided them past the line waiting to pay to get in with only a nod towards the guard, who bowed his two-panel wings in reply. "Praxus has the wealth to spend on it. It is also cultural and historical. Like the Vosians we descend from, Praxians are a highly visual frametype. We take far more cues from our optics than many others, and far more of our language is frame based. It leads to a greater appreciation of physical beauty and a stronger desire to have a visually attractive environment. Other cities have different standards of beauty, and other frametypes focus on different aspects of the environment as most important. Some desire strength and order. Some want EM control, or sound. Others need to focus on more basic needs and this is seen as frivolous rather than culturally important."

Jazz nodded, looking around in wonder and starting to wonder about other things. "I don't exactly fit in around here, do I?"

"Not well, no," Prowl agreed as they walked slowly through the first hallway, one dedicated to the painters of the early Golden Age. "You are young, intelligent and not yet jaded. You will adapt in time."

Jazz field teeked embarrassment and pleasure at the praise, and he focused on the paintings to try and hide a little. They were amazing, and fascinating both in their detail and subject matter. Flat art in Kalis tended to be of the abstract variety. Praxus, at least in the early Golden Age, definitely preferred a more realistic style and were of people, mechanimals and vistas almost in equal measure. What really struck Jazz though was how many were of common mecha and everyday scenes of life, and that they were valued along with the posed portraits of important mecha.

Just from looking at these it reinforced the ideals that he had been exposed to at the temple, and that Prowl had started driving home. Praxus placed a great deal more importance on all of its citizens in all walks of life and at all levels. Even the ones it might not be proud of, the poor and needy, were valued enough to have some support so their existence was not horrible.

Prowl walked at Jazz's pace, pausing when he did and willingly discussing each painting and painter they stopped at as they made their way through the hall and into an large, high-vaulted intersection that lead to a choice of five hallways to follow. In the center was a statue of six graceful Praxian frames, each holding a sign with four lines of glyphs on it and pointing towards a hall. The one facing them, a strong mech with stern features and the markings of an Enforcer, held a sign with 'Exit' on it in standard on the bottom line.

Jazz looked the signs over, only the last lines in Standard on each making any sense to him, before he looked up at his mate. "Do we need to go, or is there time to see more?"

"We have all orn," Prowl said smoothly, his field backing it up. "Our time is our own today, and I enjoy being here a great deal. The Crystal Gallery is this way," he guided Jazz to one of the halls without needing to look at the signs.

There was eager anticipation in Jazz's field at the announcement, and the first sculpture they came to had him entranced. Stylized crystal flowers of clean lines were artfully lit so that they glowed from within greeted them as soon as they stepped into the hall. It was simple, clean and elegant but so artfully crafted it kept his visual centers occupied for far longer than it should.

"One of Pellucid's finest small creations," Prowl said with a small hint of pride. "She crafted many originals you will see duplicates of around Praxus. She is quite possibly the most influential artist on the modern Praxian aesthetic."

Jazz's attention snapped back his mate, a hint of shy guilt in his field. "It makes you want to reach out and touch, just by being there."

"Yes," Prowl gave him a tiny smile. "The best art always draws one in, makes you think, or wonder about what you are witnessing. She crafted objects of exquisite beauty. We are very lucky that many of the Lords believe in allowing the public access to the things they or their predecessors commissioned. It has become a tradition in many Houses and the temples to gift such objects to the museums and public collections after a time. Our best Lords commission such beauty for the public spaces."

"Is there more of her work here?" Jazz asked, finally looking around to see what else might exist in the hall.

"Several pieces," Prowl said as he guided Jazz to the next piece, more than content to move at his mate's pace. No matter how many times he'd visited, this museum never grew dull for him. "There are many other masters of crystal carving and sculpting in Praxian history. They are all represented here," he said with real pride that such a collection was on public display.

"Which is your favorite?" Jazz finally asked as they continued down the hall, trying to not linger too long over any one piece but honestly fascinated by what he was being allowed to witness.

"Mmm, I believe that would be the work of Trident," Prowl decided as they walked slowly to the next object, a hyper-realistic sculpture of the Royal Coat of Arms of the City of Praxus. "His favorite subjects were mecha and displaying the classically perfect form of the caste or function. One of my few indulgences is my collection of his work, and a scaled reproductions of larger pieces."

"Will you show me which ones they are later?" Jazz asked, his optics sweeping over the coat of arms and noting how the artist had managed to catch even the smallest of details in relief and bring them to life.

"I would be pleased to do so," Prowl purred, delighted to have this in common with his mate. "Perhaps you will find pieces you like enough to bring into the collection in the coming vorns."

"I would enjoy adding things that you like as well." The same eagerness, something he enjoyed himself and a desire to please Prowl, suffused Jazz's field, his attention on mate until another carving captured it.

This one Jazz had to stop and read the caption on to understand. The artist, Stardreamer, had been an avid intergalactic traveler as well, and had created many pieces inspired by things he had found on his travels.

The piece was an organic creature from a world several solar systems over. It was like nothing Jazz had ever seen, but it was so lifelike that he would have willing believed that it could have taken off running the length of the hall at any nanoklik.

"He spent little time in Praxus outside his studio, but even during his lifetime he was renown. A living treasure of the city. Many lords competed to fund his travels and have their designation attached to his creations from it," Prowl added, his pleasure in Jazz's growing love and fascination for what made Praxus great showing in his harmonics and his field. "He was mourned as greatly as any Lord of Praxus when he passed to the Well."

"Kalis has nothing like this." Jazz admitted quietly, his tone and field a little sad. He had never given much thought to things outside of the way of his own city-state, but now he was wondering how much _more_ Kalis could be if it was willing to embrace some of the ideas of the rest of Cybertron.

"Not many cities do," Prowl replied, both saddened and proud. "Vos and Iacon are the two that come closest. It requires a level of spare wealth that is not possessed by all."

"Kalis does not want anything like this, at least not by those that could afford to give it." Jazz amended. "It would be different if there was any desire for the arts there."

Prowl's sensor wings gave a curious twitch and cant. "Why is it not desirable?"

"Just different priorities. Art is only worth something in Kalis if you can put a price on it." Jazz said quietly. "Appreciating it for its beauty and the thought behind it is uncommon. And it is always changing, with little appreciating for the past."

Prowl hummed, then nodded. "It is sad. I know the processor set. It only leads to trouble and grief in the end. It makes one too focused on self-gratification and the material value and allows one to forget the value in sharing, lifting others up, and the more intangible assets of education and culture. It is entirely too common."

It was insight too, a little, to the life and culture that Jazz had come from. And why he was so easily dazzled and fascinated by what Praxus had to offer and that Prowl was willing to share him. And maybe even a small sign of the hand of Primus himself in giving Prowl a younger creation not yet set in the ways of his House and City.

They were all things Prowl was grateful for on some level, even though it distressed him to have such things exist. He willingly waited for Jazz to be ready to move on. The next piece to truly capture the young mech's attention was a collection of fine strands of many colors coming out of a sphere of them. They were reaching out to tangle with the strands of a smaller, pure white collection that was reaching out as well.

"What...?" Jazz asked, circling it slowly, studying each line and color.

"Primus welcoming a high priest in the Well," Prowl supplied.

That had Jazz staring, looking from Prowl to the piece and back again as he tried to process that. He circled it again before asking. "Who was the artist?"

"Artisia Clear Spark," Prowl answered easily. "He is a modern artisan in the temple."

"Why would he choose to do something like this?" Jazz asked, still intrigued by the piece. On a level it almost seemed too personal to just be put on display for the public.

"To display the beauty of the Well and Primus," Prowl smiled softly. "A reminder that though white sparks are marked as priests by society and custom, Primus is all sparks, all colors, not that of a rarefied few."

Jazz fingers reached out to the white spark, not touching but close. "So that is what your spark looks like."

"In general, yes," Prowl nodded, stepping close enough to easily teek the younger mech. "What color is yours?"

"Blue-green." Jazz shrugged, making it out to be nothing special, curious attention on Prowl now.

"Every spark is special," Prowl said softly as he reached out to lightly caress Jazz's chest plates over his spark. "Every spark is beautiful."

"You say that like it has to be true." Jazz said, more question than disbelief or doubt as he looked into Prowl's optics, trying to understand the soft, odd feeling tugging at his spark.

"It is," Prowl said with absolute conviction. "Every spark is a piece of Primus. Every spark is special, beautiful and worthy of love."

"Even mine?" Jazz asked softly, a small unreadable smile on his face, and his field a mix of hope and sadness as he looked at his mate.

"Yes, even yours," Prowl said firmly. "You are no less worthy than any other."

Jazz nodded his acceptance and they walked through the rest of the crystal gallery, stopping at each object and Jazz willingly indulging in listening to his bonded speak of the history, mecha and ideas it represented. His bonded had a nice voice, and knew so much it seemed, about everything. Prowl was cultured and educated on a level that no one in Kalis seemed to be and it made Jazz wonder if it was a Praxian thing to know so much, or is Kalis was really so far behind.

When they reached the intersection again, he dared look at Prowl and hesitantly suggested that maybe they could walk through a park. Prowl had smiled, his field suffused with warmth and agreement, and they moved on, leaving the formal collection of crystals for one of the natural gardens. It was relatively small, only a city block in size, but in it the pruning done was only to keep the winding paths and seating areas clear for visitors. Otherwise, the crystals were allowed to grow where and how they willed.

Here Jazz's reaction was quieter, but no less genuine for the thoughtful quiet as they walked along. Here and there he would ask a question about a particular type of crystal. Some Prowl was able to answer, others he recommended Jazz store away to ask of the experts that kept the temple gardens after they returned.

Eventually they wound their way back to the temple, the guards went on to other duties and they returned to their apartment.

"Wash your sensor wings?" Jazz offered, starting to get a sense of routine here in Praxus, and the temple in particular, where cleanliness seemed to be one of top priorities.

"If you would like to," Prowl turned to him with a deep purr and kissed him with the passion that he hadn't shown all orn.

"I offered because I would like to do so, and because I thought you would like it as well." Jazz replied as he sought another kiss.

"I would enjoy it very much," Prowl's field spoke strongly of just how much he would enjoy it as he embraced his bonded and held him, relishing the relative freedom of his quarters. "Or we can get properly messy first."

"Define 'properly messy'?" Jazz requested in a teasing tone, leaning into the welcoming embrace as his field whispered of eager anticipation.

"Filled with transfluid and smeared with lubricant," he purred, tracing a finger down the side of Jazz's chest before leaning in for another kiss. "Unsuitable to be seen in public."

"That sounds like a lot of fun. How might I please you best tonight?" The dark mech murmured, lips continuing to touch Prowl's in a series of small, teasing kisses.

Prowl's vents caught, torn between answering the question and guiding the coding back towards being equals. He moaned into the next kiss, deepening it to buy himself time to sort his priorities. Eventually their mouths parted and he murmured, "By indulging yourself. Bind me?"

Jazz hummed, processor sorting through idea's as he continued to indulge in light kisses and soft touches over his mate's frame. "Tie you down and ride your spike?" He finally suggested.

"Yes," Prowl shivered, eager and quite willing to show it. "I want you hot, your field burning against mine."

"And where are we going to put on such a show?" Jazz asked, his frame warming at the suggestions and quite willing.

Another shiver passed down Prowl's frame and he claimed a series of soft, hungry kisses. "What would make you shiver the most?"

The rephrasing made Jazz think, the code directing him to a slightly different place with the new apparent intent of the question. "Or maybe instead, I can bind you, and work myself up. Forcing you to watch the whole time, until I finally give in and take your valve?" Jazz suggested, thoughtful and quivering with arousal at the idea.

Prowl could only moan as his field roared with desire, screaming his approval for him. He claimed several heated kisses before finding his voice. "Guide me."

"So am I actually tying you up, or this going to be an exercise in your self control?" Jazz purred as he led his mate through the suite in the direction of the washracks. "Forcing you to watch me until you give in, or until I do?"

"I have bindings in the storeroom," Prowl purred as they passed through his workroom on the way to the washrack. "A hook will magnetize to the ceiling."

"Go on." Jazz suggested with a nod to the washrack, stealing another kiss and letting his fingers trail over one wing, processor already contemplating how he was going to restrain his lover and what sort of show he was going to give the other mech.

Prowl nodded and they parted when they entered the washrack. Prowl into the larger of two storerooms in the apartment and Jazz to set up the shower. When Prowl joined his bonded he'd already cuffed himself with a long chain between them and handed Jazz the hook with a magnetized base to place where he wanted.

With a purr Jazz took the hook and leaned in for a deep kiss, distracting the Praxian as he backed his mate up against the wall. Prowl moved willingly, submission coming smoothly and easily despite his rank. Part of him would always _serve_ and that part would always revel in not being in charge.

Jazz pulled back with a satisfied smirk at the compliance. "Arms over your helm." He ordered, judging how much length Prowl had as the Praxian obeyed.

The magnet was placed and the chain was shortened, Jazz tweaking it until it was just the tension he wanted. Prowl's pedes were still flat on the floor, the Praxian's arms loose enough that he could move just out from the wall, but his mate was going to have very little freedom to do anything but watch as Jazz enjoyed himself. Prowl's field flared against Jazz, arousal already building simply from the bindings and the promise of what as to come.

"You feel good. So very good." Jazz commented as he claimed another kiss before backing away. "But I wonder what will make you want. What will make you burn with desire until you plead for me to take you?"

Prowl's white optics blazed as he watched Jazz. They were still close enough for their fields to mingle, expressing Prowl's anticipation and desire.

"The sounds I make as I touch my own frame?" Jazz mused, optics focused on Prowl as his hands started roaming his armor, sliding into seams and joints, drawing attention to his hips as he played.

"Yes, the sight of your pleasure, your need," Prowl moaned softly.

"This feels good." Jazz admitted, moaning softly as he teased at his own cables and wires. "But there are things that feel so much better."

With a soft snap his valve cover slid back and his fingers started to tease over the soft platelets. Still close enough for Prowl to feel he sank to the floor, knees spread for his lover to see. "But even better is a spike in my valve. Yours was so perfect the other orn, filling me so cleanly. So powerful." With that he thrust two fingers in, helm falling back with a groan.

Prowl's engine revved hard at the words and he groaned at the sight. "Must show you where I keep the interface toys. Such a show."

"Taking me, then letting me ride it for you. Filling me both times, for both our pleasure." Jazz continued, frame moving against the motion of his fingers even as his field flared at the suggestion.

"You're amazing to be inside," Prowl shivered, moaning at the memories, words and visual before him. "So slick, so hot and so very eager. Especially once I tasted your passion. So much better than when you were just indulging me."

"How you cry out when you let go." Jazz continued, field warming at the praise as his frame continued to warm from the way his valve was being pleasured. "How much you enjoy it, and enjoy me."

"You look so good when you come undone, writhing under me or gasping above me," Prowl shivered, enjoying the verbal play that wasn't normally part of being bound. His spike extended on its own, a display of his arousal and what Jazz did to him. "I want to see that more, to know you desire me, that this is not just duty or political need."

Jazz moaned in agreement, fingers curling his valve to strike a few nodes just so, and his field exploded out in a self-induced overload. He heard Prowl keen with him, but Prowl's voice was thick with longing and need, of pleasure on the edge of being enough but not quite.

"Jazz...." Prowl's voice shook, his field thick with the charge that would go no higher.

With a groan Jazz pulled his fingers from his valve and rose to his feet, surprisingly steady as he approached his mate. He made a show of running his glossa the length of the shining digits before offering them to Prowl.

The high priest of Praxus, one of the most powerful mecha in the city and a friend of the Prime, eagerly extended his glossa and licked them, drawing each into his mouth to be sucked clean with hums of pleasure and ever-increasing arousal from honest desire and enjoyment of the setup.

"Very good." Jazz praised softly, enjoying the attention of the gentle glossa and reaching up to hold Prowl's face and claim a kiss that was returned full of passion and desire once his fingers were clean.

"Turn." He ordered softly, looking into Prowl's optics as his spike cover slid back and the dark spike extended between them. "Let me have your valve again. Let me please you once more."

"Always," Prowl moaned deeply and leaned forward for another heated kiss. "You make it feel so very good," he praised and encouraged before tucked his sensor wings close in to make turning around to face the wall easier. Relaxing his chest and cheek against the wall he spread his legs and shifted back, arching his backstrut so his valve was easy to thrust into deeply.

"My mission in functioning." Jazz murmured against the back of Prowl's neck as his fingers tested the offered valve.

"Not your only one," Prowl insisted, even if his valve was doing an admirable job of objecting to the statement as it tightened around the teasing fingers, the slick space hot and very ready.

A mutual moan followed as Jazz slowly sank his spike into the wanton, slick heat, savoring every sensation of being wrapped in his mate and the pleasure rolling off Prowl at his actions. It brought him alive to know that Prowl wanted him happy, wanted him free and wanted to share all kinds of pleasure with him.

"You feel so good when I can give you pleasure, and when you are willing to share it with me." Jazz informed him as he frame pressed close and stilled, one hand slipping around the Praxian to find the still pressurized spike and run down the length.

All Prowl could do was keen and tremble, trapped between pressing back into that spike that felt so good and forward into the hand that offered just as much.

"Enjoy." Jazz whispered as his focus narrowed to bringing his mate to overload. Spike and hand worked together as his other arm braced against the wall for balance and trapped Prowl in on all sides.

This was the best pleasure. Being able to see and feel another loose themselves in what Jazz could offer. And Prowl allowed him to do so much. The fact was a pleasure that spoke to Jazz, another level in his growing charge.

"Yes," Prowl's moans and sighs mingled with his field to express just how much he was enjoying this and how without reservation he was in that enjoyment. He cycled his valve, fluttering the calipers and lining around the wonderful thickness inside him, but tried to keep his hips still. He was bound. He did this to give all the power and choices to his lover. To fill his valve, stroke his spike, and how fast and hard were all on another. His only duty was to enjoy and express his enjoyment of the touch and rising charge.

Behind him Jazz moaned again, helm tilting to kiss and nip at the back of Prowl's neck. A small part of his wished he could play with those wonderful sensor wings as well, but he was not willing to jeopardize the rhythm and balance they had, and in the span a few thrusts the thought was lost in the pleasure.

Against him Prowl's frame quivered and flexed, their pants and gasps of pleasure mingling until Prowl's slender fingers began clawing the soft metal of the shower and his ventilations became gasps.

"Jazz...." he managed to moan, shaking hard until his valve spiraled tight around the wonderful thickness inside him and energy began to crackle across his frame as circuits and wires were all flooded with too much energy to make sense of commands and he locked up.

"Yes." Jazz answered, pleasure and a sort of permission as his mate's overload flooded around him. The jerk of the spike in his hand and the splatter of transfluid against the wall registered just as Jazz lost himself in the bliss of his own second overload.

* * *

Jazz stepped into the large room, looking around. For all intents and purposes it was the 'muli-purpose' room of the temple, dedicated to larger gatherings of mecha for various purposes. As such it wasn't decorated in any permanent way worth noting, and it was still plain right now. This orn it was going to be a ballroom for one of the dance classes the temple offered the common public. 

He'd timed it so that he would be neither the first nor the last to arrive, even though he stuck out a like a sore digit no matter what he did. It was rather hard trying to blend in when you were not of Praxian frame in Praxus herself. It earned him the expected double takes and extended looks, but he could not have been more grateful that the ranking priest there, one with two wing panels, merely canted his wings in greeting much like he did to everyone else. It was, without a doubt, on Prowl's request. Jazz was already well aware that as the Conjunx Praesul of the Barasi normally he would have received the full bow that Prowl, an Archipresul or a high-ranking Lord warranted.

It meant he wasn't immediately singled out by everyone there as someone special. That meant he could mingle. His own status was something that was going to take some getting used to, even here. Yes, he had been of the 'ruling' House of Kalis, but there a bowed helm ranked almost equal with a full bow, and averted optics were the most common sign of respect.

Most likely because so much respect when it came to Jazz's family was born of fear.

Putting that out of his processor, Jazz settled a smile on his face and relaxed his frame, stepping forward to join the crowd of a score or so. His greeting by the instructor served him well and he was taken to be a citizen, or at least the equivalent of one.

"Do you have any experience?" a rather nervous sounding young mech asked, his brightly painted two-panel wings trying to hold still.

"Dancing?" Jazz asked with a friendly smile. "A little, mostly club and contemporary. Nothing like this, in a group setting. This is new for me. What about you?"

"My first lesson. My mate wants to be part of the line in the New Vorn celebration," he smiled and canted his wings in a friendly greeting. "Designation's Quickstop."

"Jazz." The darker mech replied with a nod of his head. "My bonded is Praxian, so I'm here to learn so I can dance with everyone else."

Quickstop nodded his understanding. "Have you lived in Praxus long?"

"Less than a metacycle." Jazz admitted. "I still have a lot to learn. I've seen a little of the city, and I look forward to see more. Anything that you would recommend?"

"I'd hold off on visiting the big sights, especially the Helix Garden, until the low season when tourists are less common. It's not as crowded that way," Quickstop quite willingly talked. "You will want to go. Really, you need to see it and all the major sights in your first few vorns. The Lord Skyshard Art Gallery is amazing. It took me a solid decaorn worth of visits over a vorn to see it all, and it's always worth going back to. They have an exhibit hall that has a new display every metacycle. Some are private collections, some from storage and sometimes from other cities or an historical period. There's always something new to see."

"Best advice I was given when I moved to this district was to check out all the local parks and little eateries," a new voice, just as friendly, joined the conversation. "They're places not many tourists go to, and we have a _lot_ of tourists in this district, but they tend to stay close to their hotel and the major sights."

"I'll keep that in mind for sure." Jazz said angled his frame to include the new mecha in the conversation, nodding his helm in welcome to the blue and black Praxian. "I enjoy trying new forms of energon, and the local flavors are always the best."

"You'll want to check out The Quiet Seeker and Warm Waves then," the newcomer grinned. "I'm Temperance."

"Longwing's Cafe is good too," Quickstop added. "All three distill their own and make their own confections."

Jazz noted the places, wondering how soon he would be able to visit them and making a note to ask Prowl later before he focused on Temperance. "Jazz. Are you a newbie like us?" He asked, the motion of his hand indicating that he was referring to himself and Quickstop.

"Not quite that new, but this is only my fourth class for Line Cross Dancing," he said easily. "I'm much better with freeform club moves, but master the classics and you'll be better at the rest, so I'm working through the classics."

"Sounds reasonable to me." Jazz agreed as he was interrupted by the priest in charge calling the class order, taking a helm count and arranging them in two lines facing each other. He then introduced himself, and his assistant. Social protocols absently informed Jazz that they were both akiani, full-time teachers like Honor. The lead a full priest, a presuel, and the assistant the next rank down, a lapresul.

As different as the slow line dance was, and Jazz had difficulty calling the measured, ritualized steps slower than a walk a dance, the instructions were easy to follow and Jazz could soon turn some of his attention elsewhere.

His frame followed the count as he picked out Quickstop. The mech was not doing bad, but he clearly had little personal sense of time and frowned in concentration on each motion.

It was getting easier as the class went on to tell who had been in class before and who was new. It was also much easier to tell who really wanted to be here, and who was likely here because it was either expected of them or because they were trying to please someone else.

Temperance, for being four joor-long classes ahead of Jazz, was one that he marked as wanting to be here for himself, and had a good sense of his frame and balance. Though he also was fairly sure the twitch of his sensor wings was indicating a desire to move a lot faster too. All of which matched up with what the mech had said of himself. 

Others seemed to be enjoying it much more, or were advanced enough that they'd be moving on to the next level soon, and were incorporating small movements of the rest of their frame in with the basic steps. While the class was to teach the form that was a traditional base for the dance, it was also meant to be an expression, and such subtle alterations were to be expected by more skilled dancers. The sensor wing cues were something that would remain forever beyond his ability to convey, but already his processor was presenting small things that could be used to make it his. He had all the other parts, and he saw movements by arms, helms, even shifts in armor.

This was nothing like the dancing he knew, except for that one time in Prowl's arms, but it wasn't the absolute rigidity he feared it might be. It wasn't a military drill. It was still a dance. A ritualized, stately, slow group dance, but a dance he would work with.


	3. Breaking Code

In the short time that he had been at the temple Jazz had come to love the crystal gardens it supported. He was a constant figure in them now, recognized by those who cared for them and usually allowed to come and go as he pleased. The honest interest and respect he had for them was clear, and had won over the caretakers quickly.

This orn he was taking advantage of a corner in one of the smaller gardens, trying to calm himself against the stress of the change that as hanging over him. Part of him wanted the code removed, but another part of him was terrified at the loss of something that had been a part of his normal functioning. It was only his bonded's support of having it removed, no matter how much the code railed against it, that made the prospect tolerable. It was weird, in a way, that as independent as he normally was he had such difficulty with the idea of removing something that crippled his independence.

"It will be all right," Prowl's low, smooth voice came with a completely steady field.

Jazz looked up, caught slightly off guard, before his field reached out to brush against Prowl's, taking comfort in the other's confidence. "Come to see me off?" He asked as the notification he had set flared to life.

"I came to go with you," Prowl said with a tiny smile. "Time was made today."

Surprise and delight rippled though his mate's field, along with true thankfulness. "I am glad." Jazz admitted as he finally stood, looking around the garden one last time before following his bonded.

"As I am," Prowl lightly brushed their fields together. "It is rare I can take so much personal time."

"I am thankful that you are willing to do so for me." Jazz admitted, slipping into a slightly more formal mode as they entered a busier section of the temple grounds, then into the courtyard where Prowl's honor guard joined them for the drive to the same secluded and shielded building they'd gone to before. This time when Jazz stepped into the open entry room he had some idea of what to expect, but he still simply followed Prowl silently though to the same office he'd been in before. It wasn't exaggerating that Prowl seemed quite familiar with the process.

"Settle anywhere you will be comfortable for several joors," Prowl's field caressed his with support.

Jazz obeyed, choosing a seat that looked comfortable. "This isn't the first time that you have done this, is it?"

"Regretfully, no. My original calling has made me far more predisposed to enforcing our laws, both in sanctioning action against offenders and in tending to the victims," Prowl answered, his grief that such things existed clear in his field and harmonics. "Slave traders are a particularly sore subject for me."

"You say it as if it is a bad thing, Prowl," Peace Code's voice chided the elder mech.

"That it exists to be is not a good thing," Prowl countered. "All is ready?"

"Yes," Peace Code nodded as he sat next to Jazz. "Are you ready?"

"As I think I am going to be." Jazz admitted, his attentions shifting to code specialist. "Are you going to work here?"

"Unless a more clinical setting would put you more at ease," Peace Code offered.

"No, this is fine." Jazz was quick to assure them. He wasn't sure what he had been expecting, but somewhere along the line he had been expected to be sedated or restrained, just in case he tried _something_.

Prowl brought a chair over and sat next to Jazz, leaning close so his bonded could rest against him if he wished.

"I will be monitoring your consciousness the entire time, so if something goes wrong, I will hear you," Peace Code promised as he settled in a third chair and brought out a thick cable designed to make a full mech peripheral to another. "If you would open your primary medical port."

There was visible reluctance as armor transformed and folded back to reveal a port deep in the darkly colored mech's chest. A second conscious command from Jazz had the cover retracted as well, offering Peace Code the full physical access he had requested. 

In a moment of personal weakness Jazz leaned back into the presence and the safety Prowl was offering, searching for a sturdy anchor to combat the doubt. He was greeted by the steadiness he'd already come to associate with his bonded, but also a warmth, support and understanding that managed to surprise him.

"Ready." Jazz informed them, voice steady as his field was not.

Peace Code didn't ask if he was sure. The specialist knew full well that no mecha was ever ready for this. He merely kept his field calm and plugged in. For the moment he allowed Jazz to set the pace. So long as the patient cooperated, Peace Code was trained to allow them to lower firewalls at their pace. There was no benefit to hurrying or making this more grueling for them than it had to be.

His patient's defenses fell steadily, each one dropping less than a klik after he touched it, slowly granting him access to all of Jazz's systems and the code that touched them all. Each system was examined as it became available, coding that needed to be edited marked but not touched until everything was accessible.

Then, in a single, swift action Peace Code stripped out, changed or overwrote large swaths of coding, some of it going quite deep. Once he began he didn't pause, didn't hesitate. It had been planned out maliciously to give the coding the least chance of survival.

Under his attention Jazz trembled, mouth open in a silent keen of distress. There was no pain, at least not as most mecha thought of pain. His frame was barely being touched. But his processor was a completely different matter. It was like when Prowl had given him the commands to act as a free mecha, only exponentially worse as code wasn't merely altered, but completely destroyed and replaced in some places. There was no mercy. None could be shown if this was going to work.

Prowl drew him more tightly against himself, humming softly to try and sooth, though he knew little would help. For him the half joor passed the slowest. His bonded was in agony and the physcian was working hard. All Prowl could do was hold Jazz and hum to him, trying to assure the mech that it would be all right.

When it was over having Peace Code disconnect was rather like being dropped off a cliff for Jazz. The powerful processor that had completely integrated into his own was suddenly gone and he was left completely alone. The shock of that loss, of the control and stability even as it was changing things, was as bad as the changes themselves. Jazz's processor locked up temporarily, overwhelmed by trying to integrate and assimilate the massive amount of input it was being subjected to.

When the reboot cycle completed, Jazz found himself leaning heavily against his mate, still quite dazed but feeling much like his pre-bonding self. Only he wasn't unbonded. The mech he was beholden to was currently supporting most of his weight.

"Sorry." The apology was full of static, and he wasn't quite sure what he was apologizing for since all he wanted to do, and promptly did, was lean more against Prowl as things continued to settle in to place. "Is he done?"

"Yes," Prowl gently rubbed a stubby sensor horn. "You should remain here for at least three orns while they ensure that the changes settle and none of the slave code managed to survive."

The touch on his sensor horn was soothing, gentle and distracting, and it took a while for the words to sink in. "You're going to have to leave though, aren't you?"

"Yes," Prowl murmured, his tone expressing his regret. "I still must attend to my duties. I will come when I can."

Jazz nodded his understanding, his field going quiet as the changes started to settle into something far less painful. His displeasure was clear, but he was too tired to argue with Prowl now.

"Let us get you to your quarters," Prowl said, gentle but insistent, before he helped support Jazz in standing. "You will feel better after recharging."

His mate leaned heavily on him, not because Jazz wanted to, but because frustratingly enough to the independent mech he didn't seem to have the processing power to move on his own. "Is this right?" He asked. Then, "Will you stay 'till then?"

"It is normal, yes. You should be able to manage your frame after a few joors of recharge," Prowl tried to reassure him. "I will stay until it is time to prepare for morning prayers."

That was very comforting to Jazz, and he was much more compliant as Prowl led him from the office and through the medical center to the section devoted to recovering mecha. Prowl seemed to know exactly where he was going as he supported Jazz down a hall and opened the door to a small room. It was simple, just a berth, a small desk, nice but not elaborate vid cast center and a collection of datapads on a shelf by the desk. On the nightstand was a cube of energon, and there was a second door, but it was closed and Jazz was too worn out to ask where it went. The berth was soft, so wonderfully soft under him when Prowl settled him on one side, propped against wall at the head of the berth, and settled to support him from the side.

"Drink," Prowl's soft but insistent voice came with a cube of energon held to Jazz's lips.

There was a quiet hum of acceptance at the order, and then a rush of relief through his field as the first of the energon hit his tank and was registered by his processor. Almost instinctively Jazz tried to drink faster, obeying the need to fuel on the most basic level. Instead he felt his bonded control the rate, soft but firm words warning of hurting himself if he consumed too quickly and promises that there was plenty of energon.

The cube still disappeared quickly, but by the time it was gone Jazz was finally starting to feel things settle more firmly into place as his coding started to smooth itself out. Even in his current state he could tell that things were not quite right, and were going to feel that way for a while.

"Thank you." He murmured, helm resting on Prowl's shoulder. "Better now."

"Good," Prowl dissipated the cube and began to hum a lullaby while he got Jazz to lay down, then settled next to him. "Recharge. You will feel better in the morning."

"Hope so. Not fun." Jazz mumbled, snuggling in closer to Prowl's frame and not attempting to fight the process of shutting down into recharge.

* * *

He was not sure how long he had recharged when his systems finally started to boot. His internal chronometer informed him that it had been almost an entire orn, but with as sore as his processor still was and all of the changes that had been made to his coding, Jazz was not sure that he could trust it just yet.

He was sure that he must not have moved the entire time as he rolled over on the berth, his entire frame protesting the motion. Recharging an entire orn was not normally a big deal, but still hazy memories hinted that he had put a lot of strain on it just holding still not so very long ago.

Another burst of effort to sit up, marked with a groan of protest from his vocalizer, and he finally got his optics to focus. The first thing they settled on was a sealed cube of energon on the side table. Propped up against the softly glowing medical grade was a dataped, and he reached for it once it registered that it was his name glyph displayed prominently on the screen.

The message was short and simple.

_I regret my duties prevent me from remaining. I will return when I can._

_The second door is to a private washrack. Expect a nurse to visit within a breem of getting up._

_Prowl_

With a sigh Jazz tossed the datapad back on the side table. Just because he accepted it did not mean that he had to like the fact that his mate was not here. There was a burst of sudden resentment, and Jazz shuddered as it hit him full force in a way that he had not experienced before.

It was strange, disturbing, and trying to process it distracted him from the debate of trying to clean up or refueling. There was a ping accompanied by a knock on the door to his room that distracted him from that.

"Yeah. Come on in." Jazz invited, though the invitation was given grudgingly. He really did not want to see anyone right now. All he wanted to do was try and work through everything that was strange and new, and see where it led him.

The mech that entered was lightly built and Praxian, painted in shades of white that were easy on the processor to deal with. "How are you feeling, Jazz?" he asked pleasantly.

"Like someone just shredded my processor and then let me recharge for an orn or so." Jazz grumbled, focusing on the nurse and trying to remind himself that it was not this mech's fault that Jazz was there or that Prowl was not. Jazz just didn't have the energy or the desire to be happy or cheerful at the moment, and he saw no reason to put forth the effort to act like he was.

"Which is roughly what happened," the nurse said agreeably. "How is your balance?"

With a grunt Jazz got to his pedes, swaying some and grabbing the berth but managing to stay upright with a minimal amount of effort as he reported. "Not great, but I've been worse. That normal too?"

"With the length of your recharge, no," he said with only a touch of concern. His field was smooth, calming and friendly. "It is not unknown, but unusual. Generally only those that have significant physical control lost to their compliance coding remain disoriented. May I plug in and check that your physical control protocols are intact?"

"Can I sit back down while you do?" Jazz asked, then didn't wait for an answer as his aft plopped back on the berth. A port cover slipped back though, one that would offer the medic the basic access that he had requested. Jazz was rather sure if he played the good mecha they might leave him alone for while like he really wanted.

The nurse's scan of his systems was quick, efficient and as non-invasive as such a thing could be. He hummed, then flicked his sensor wings in comprehension as he unplugged. "It seems that your systems are prioritizing your processors over your frame. It should settle naturally once you have finished adjusting to the changes, or if you need to move, try and up the priority. You're energy levels are acceptable, though refueling would be good."

That made sense to Jazz, as hard as he could feel his processor still working in the background, and the odd twinge here and there are bits of coding finished snapping into place. All of the primary coding must had finished for him to be allowed to boot up. The small stuff was annoying and distracting all the same.

"Refueling sounds good. What is expected of me while I'm stuck here?" He asked the nurse as he reached for the energon cube. It was a little distressing how his hand shook with the small weight, and the effort it took to break the seal had him prodding at the priority trees for his motor controls. He could feel the nurse right there, ready to help but allowing him to do as much as he could on his own.

"Rest and whatever you please in this room until your coding finishes stabilizing. That should be within the next orn and a half. The rest of your time here you are still welcome to do as you please when you are in your room, but there will be checks and testing to ensure that all the edits are working and you have full control of your thoughts, actions and frame," the nurse explained.

That sounded reasonable enough to Jazz as he worked on the energon. "And if I want more energon?" He asked, holding up the half empty cube, his hand already much more stable.

"A cube will be brought in four times an orn. If you wish more, there is a comm-buzzer there on the berthside stand," the nurse pointed to the button that Jazz hadn't noticed before. "There is also limited vocal monitoring by an AI in the room. If you call for help or in pain, it will alert the nurse on duty. Such as if you fall in the washrack or can't get up from the berth."

Jazz nodded. "Any other rules I should know about?"

"Standard rule of society apply; be polite, don't attack anyone, keep yourself fueled and presentable. You may not leave the room without someone with you, and any kind of self-destructive behavior will be stopped and keep you here much longer," the nurse was serious. "It means the editing went badly and we'll have to fix it." His field gentled. "You are not a prisoner. The rules are for your own protection. A lot of deep editing was done. While side effects are rare, they can be dangerous."

Jazz simply nodded.

"I can help you in the washrack, if you would like, or I will leave you to work that out on your own," the nurse offered.

"I'll work it out on my own. But thanks anyway." He added, feeling more civil as strength returned to his frame. He wasn't sure how long it would last, but his manners were at least coming back to him.

"Then I'll leave you alone until you call, or it's time for the next cube," the nurse smiled and left.

Jazz watched him go, finishing the cube absently. There would be time to think later. Right now he wanted something familiar and easy, and being clean fit the bill.

Path decided, he rose and went to investigate the wash rack. When he trembled and wavered on standing, he forced reallocation of priorities until he steadied and walked the short distance to the second door and palmed it open.

Beyond was a room about half the size of the berthroom with a nice but simple washrack in the front half and a good sized empty oil pool in the back half.

Jazz groaned in appreciation at the sight of the oil pool and set it to filling and heating so it would be ready once he managed to get himself clean. It would have to be the most basic of cleanings this time. He doubted his frame and energy would hold for more than that. And the hard to reach spots would just have to wait until he felt better or until there was another pair of welcome hands to help.

He turned the solvent on, hot as it would go, and just leaned his forearms and helm against the wall as it ran over his frame, soothing in its cleansing liquid heat. It was an indulgent luxury, and right now he really didn't care how extravagant he was being.

His frame hurt, but even more his processor hurt, and not just from the code rewrite. It was also trying to process the pain in his spark that he had not expected.

There was pain, anger, and frustration. Emotions that had been dulled and filtered by the code, just as his position had been. What and where he was now was suddenly cast in a completely different light. And now he was left doubting the wisdom of removing the coding that had been shaping him into something content with his lot in functioning.

He was no longer sure he wanted this functioning, this place. The mate that he wasn't sure that he even really knew any more.

A scrub later and Jazz sunk into the waiting oil with another moan. His processor was still spinning, flying off onto tangents that he had never considered before. Like why he was suddenly wondering what had possessed him to obey his creator, and if the code had somehow run deeper than mere bonding code.

Wondering what Prowl would think of him now, and wavering between caring and not. A defiant part informed him firmly that he should not care. But a softer part kept pulling up memories of the care and kindness he had felt from the priest.

Memories that he was no longer sure that he could trust, wondering if they were just as much colored by the code as everything else.

Yet there was the simple fact that he was _here_ to wonder about such things too. It was hard to doubt, even now, that Prowl had a fairly solid idea of what removing the code would do, so unlike Jazz he hadn't pressed this blindly. _Why_ would he do such a thing? Really, why? Prowl had been no more eager for the bonding than Jazz, but he was the dominant one, if he'd given the code just a couple decaorns he would have had a mate that suited his needs and desires quite well. Instead he was going to arrive to one that was in an ill mood and would be far more rebellious than before.

Questions. Far too many questions, and far too few answers that he could reach on his own. So he would just have to wait for his mate, bonded...whatever Prowl was to him now, to show up so he could have answers.

Even though that conclusion wasn't enough to stop all of the spinning, it did slow it enough that Jazz finally felt his frame start to relax, armor loosening and allowing the hot oil in to caress his protoform and sink into his joints and seams. As the heat continued to work its magic Jazz set a few internal parameters as a precaution, and relaxed even more, slipping into a partial recharge that would allow at least some of his processor to rest.

He reluctantly roused to the sound of the outer door opening and some quiet walking in. His focused a little, trying to place the movement, and his processor finished booting fully when it registered that it was not his bonded. The faint sounds continued for only a bit, then the mecha left.

Energon delivery, Jazz finally realized, recalling the schedule that had been given to him earlier. He considered for a moment, checking his energy levels.

He could use the fuel, but he was not desperate. And the oil was so warm and inviting he was reluctant to leave. His systems finally made the decision for him, slipping back towards recharge and rest, and leaving the energon for later.

The outer door opening roused him again, but the silence afterwards odd. Then the pedefalls became a bit more audible and headed towards the washrack.

This time the steps and cadence matched those of his mate, and Jazz waited quietly for Prowl to appear, still wondering what was going to happen. He watched the doorway and saw the red Praxian enter with two cubes of energon.

"Are you feeling better?" Prowl asked first, marking his priorities as he knelt, set the cubes down in easy reach of them both, then slid into the hot oil with a sound of pure pleasure.

"Some." Jazz was willing to admit. "Everything still hurts. The oil helps a lot."

"You should feel almost normal, at least physically, by morning," Prowl said as he sank up to his lower lip plate in the oil and allowed his optics to dim. Pleasure, contentment and a strange sort of bemusement swirled smoothly in his field. "If you do not, it may take longer than originally estimated for the changes to settle. The coding went deeper than I expected, but Peace Code wasn't surprised. I believe that sometimes I am willfully ignorant of things I can not influence."

"Might have gone deeper than I knew. At least everything that he messed with." Jazz admitted, somewhat grudgingly. There was a half klik of silence before his focus abruptly honed in on Prowl. "Why did you do it?"

"Because all of Primus's creations deserve to have free will," Prowl answered without hesitation, teeking of absolute belief in those words. "I have preached that since I was old enough to comprehend that coding could control a mecha's basic choices and behavior. Politics can force me to compromise on many things, but it cannot force me to compromise on this in my own House. The bonding was made and agreed to by others. What we make of it and what we say with it is our own choice. I will not be a hypocrite in this."

Jazz processed all of that, understanding the words Prowl was saying but still having a hard time really understanding on a deeper level. "Another vorn or so and you would have had the perfect mate. Everything that you needed and could have wanted. Now you're stuck with me, unless you choose to dismiss me." He finally pointed out quietly.

"Yes, but in doing so I would have betrayed one of my deeply held beliefs, something I value greatly," Prowl pointed out smoothly. "The right choice is often not the easy one, Jazz." He paused and regarded Jazz evenly, honestly bewildered and a little concerned. "Dismiss you? You mean to break our legal bond?"

"If that is how you do things here in Praxus." Jazz said with a small shrug. "I don't have the code any more, but I would still honor your command. There would be nothing for me in defying it."

"We ... well, there is precedent, it can be done, but we don't do that," Prowl had to work not to stammer. " _I_ wouldn't do that. You are my bonded. We work through our problems." He froze, even his field going still as something occurred to him. "I would not prevent you from leaving if you cannot find existence here tolerable."

"It's not my right to choose to leave. Only yours to send me away if I no longer please you. Legally broken or not is also your choice." Jazz informed him, levelly and with the complete confidence of someone who knew this as part of their world and functioning.

Prowl stared at him for a long, silent klik. "Jazz. That is not part of the culture here, not even among nobles. Here, with me, it _is_ your right to choose to leave, if existence is that bad. It is your right to petition to have our bond legally broken and it is likely to be granted. A dominant mate is a political and inheritance statement. It does not strip you of basic rights."

The green visor went dim, Jazz's processor starting to hurt again with everything that was wrong in this place. His coding was wrong. His understanding was wrong. His culture was wrong. Everything that he had had been taught about his place in functioning, all that had been drilled into him mercilessly once this bonding had been arranged...was wrong?

"Jazz?" Prowl reached out to touch him gently. "I am sorry you were not given accurate information about Praxus before you came."

"I was given very little information about Praxus overall. I was instructed on how to be a proper subordinate mate, and delivered." Jazz answered quietly, processor still deep in thought. "I was instructed to please you. Nothing else mattered."

"I believe your sister is going to have a much harder time coping with Lord Papiltia," Prowl offered with a tiny smile. "He still has Praxian second creation coding, not Kalis coding. Did your early education include being a mate with an equal, or something close?"

"Neither. Equality is not common in Kalis, at least not among the upper classes. You are either dominant, or you are subordinate." Jazz said as he relaxed back into the oil, Prowl's manner putting him a little more at ease, as well as being asked about something he knew and understood. "Bonding code is a base, and it can swing either way. Additional coding once a contract is made helps shape and set it. There are far more subordinates than there are dominates in Kalis. Subordinate mates are considered signs of wealth and status."

Surprise flared brightly across Prowl's field. "Papiltan is going to have a _fit_ if she tries for another. It is rare to have a second mate in Praxus. Not unheard of, but rare, and far more common in the lower classes where it is a distinct economic advantage to do so. But back to being dismissed, what does that mean, in Kalis?"

"It means that the subordinate mecha is no longer desired, for one reason or another, and the dominant mate has sent them away. It is considered a permanent thing. Dismissed mecha often have little chance in Kalis." Jazz explained quietly. "If the dominant mate is kind and has the resources, they may be supported for the rest of their functioning. Others are allowed to take some things with them when they go. Most have no future."

Prowl couldn't even try to contain his horror, not just at the fate of the mecha, but at how easy and normal it seemed to Jazz to ignore the core vows of the bonding oaths.

"This also does not happen in Praxus?" Jazz guessed, a whisper of quiet hope underlying the question. If Prowl ever decided to turn him out, Jazz knew he would have no where to go. His House certainly would not take him back, to live the rest of his functioning as a shadow of shame in some corner.

"No!" Prowl couldn't quite contain the shout, only to immediately apologize with his field. He drew in a deep vent through his mouth and forced himself to settle. "The bonding oaths are taken seriously in Praxus, even those delivered during a political union. I promised before Prime and Primus to honor, respect and care for you for all your functioning. To do otherwise is to break an oath _to Primus_. It shames the breaker. No mecha would trust such a mecha again."

The shudder of relief that swept through Jazz was visible, his field collapsing in matching relief as tension and fear that had held it tight broke with an abrupt snap, and some other bit of code settled into its permanent place.

Even if he did not fully comprehend all of the implications behind Prowl's words, the force of the sincerity and the truth in his field was actually calming.

"You may leave me, but I will never, _can never_ , abandon you. Not even in deactivating," Prowl elaborated, then hummed. "I think someone should warn your creator and sister of the political price of trying to dismiss Papiltan." He reached out to touch Jazz's arm. "Even if we reach the point where we never speak again, I am still obligated to ensure you have a level of comfort commensurate with my station. That is how a dismissal would work in Praxus. It is uncommon, but it happens."

Jazz was quiet for a long time, neither leaning into the touch nor pulling away from it. "Than what do I owe you?" He finally asked, still trying to understand this complex new _world_ before him.

"Obedience to the rules I set out," Prowl said simply. "Those were our oaths on bonding."

"I will try." Jazz promised, suddenly tired again. Cautiously his hand reached up to brush against Prowl's where it still rested on his opposite arm, his field teeking faintly of the need of reassurance and the much stronger and deeply rooted belief that there would be none forthcoming.

"I know," Prowl said with a simple kind of faith that had no business still existing in a mecha of his age. He turned his hand over to hold and caress Jazz's fingers, and offered a gentle tug as Prowl moved to embrace him. "I do not expect perfection. I expect effort and progress."

The field that came with the frame that leaned into the offered embrace was a jumbled mass of confusion, doubt, and hope. It seemed as though all of the progress that had been made during their bonding time was gone, swallowed up by the massive edit and code rewrite that Jazz had suffered and was still trying to assimilate.

The mecha in his arms was hurt and hurting. Battered and confused, but still hopeful and willing to try.

Prowl held him, wrapped a supporting field around him and hummed soothingly until Jazz finally relaxed and seemed to calm enough to recharge. With a soft smile and tender look that expressed just how relieved he was that a little bit of progress seemed to have been made again, Prowl relaxed in the hot oil, held his bonded and planned as best he could to assuage any other fears the mech might have that he couldn't even guess at.

* * *

When Jazz started to boot this time it was the smoothest coming out of recharge that he had experienced in orns. He was warm, relaxed, and for some reason felt _safe_. The conscious, independent portion of his processor started to try and analyze the why behind his feelings as the rest continued the automatic process of scanning all of his systems. 

The code rewrite, which was still in the process of integrating. The hot oil, which had finally started to soothe and relax his frame. And Prowl. There had been stress and distress involved with his mate's arrival, but as everything Jazz had learned integrated into what he had known, he found himself leaning into the warm field and steady arms holding him as the rest of him booted. 

"Thank you." He murmured, helm turning so that he could nuzzle at his bonded.

"You are welcome," Prowl's voice was soft, light and reflected the pleasure in his field. "I am very glad you are not furious with me."

Jazz considered that for a klik. "I was. I am not sure that I'm over it yet, either."

Prowl chuckled softly, his field smooth, warm and accepting. "Not furious enough to attack me, destroy anything, try to leave or hurt yourself. Whatever level of fury you have seems to be willing to listen to me and to reason. Something I am very grateful for. Energon?"

"Please." Jazz said, the demands of his systems for fuel suddenly hitting him. He lifted his helm, looking around for the energon, recalling that Prowl had brought him at least one cube that he had never gotten around to consuming. It was handed to him easily.

"There is a second cube. You seemed to need the rest more than the energy," Prowl said as Jazz drank.

"I did. I am still trying to process everything. The new code is not easy to adjust to. One of the things that I am angry with you about." Jazz admitted as finally forced himself to slow down some, half of the first cube already gone.

"Will you explain that better?" Prowl asked gently. "I honestly was not expecting such difficulties. It should have only been influencing you towards me, as I understood it."

"It was, but it touched _everything_." Jazz explained as he reached for the second cube of energon. "It would have, had already started, to shape everything that I am into something that would please you, down to the smallest detail."

Prowl tried to contain the sick feeling roiling in his tanks and spark. "I am sorry I did not know about this sooner. It is so much more invasive than the coding I am used to that helps mecha adapt to political unions."

"That is all the most basic version would have likely done." Jazz commented thoughtfully as he shifted around in Prowl's arms and slowly sipped at the second cube of energon. "Mine was upgraded at least twice that I know of. Once when I had my adult upgrades, and once when the contract was finalized."

"Because you were expected to be a subordinate mate, and because they knew so little of Praxus and what I might expect?" Prowl hazarded a guess.

"With the last upgrade, yes." Jazz agreed, setting aside half the energon that was still left. His fingers traced lightly over Prowl's arm and chest on the way back from the edge of the oil pool. "The one I got with my adult upgrades is standard in the upper classes."

Prowl hummed his acceptance of the explanation and moved to run his hands down Jazz's back. "Will you tell me more of what you desire now that the coding isn't directing you?"

Jazz sighed, fingers still playing lightly over Prowl's chest. "I know I am going to desire many things that I cannot have. I still want to know you, to have a mate, and to please you. But I want to be happy." He paused, frowning as he considered that, and realizing that some of the code that had been addressed had driven him so long to please others that he was not sure what would make _him_ happy any more.

"I wish for you to be happy as well," Prowl addressed what he saw as the item most out of Jazz's control and the most threatened by the coding's removal. "I would like to know you, to be a mate such as I am able. I am a mech, merely a very busy one."

Jazz moved so that he was facing his mate, straddling Prowl's lap and resting his hands on the Praxian's shoulders. For a klik he stayed like that, merely studying the mech before him as though he was seeing him for the first time. In a way, he was. This was his first good look without the coding influencing him.

Then his helm tilted forward, seeking Prowl's lips in the gentlest of kisses. He felt it returned and a controlled flare of desire in Prowl's field. The lip plates under his parted in offer rather than a glossa pressing against his in demand.

A cautious, curious glossa took Prowl up on that offer, slipping in to map and relearn as the tension in the frame in his arms slowly eased.

"I want to learn who I am. Maybe who, what, Primus intended me to be." Jazz said softly as he pulled back. "Will you help me?"

"As much as I can," Prowl promised, meaning it with his spark. He slipped a finger under Jazz's chin so their optics met. "Even if that means we disagree strongly on some things, or end up parting ways, I would have you know your own spark and desires."

"Right now." Jazz started as he kissed Prowl again. "I want to spend what time and energy I have with you."

He wanted to believe down to his very spark the promises that Prowl had made. That Prowl would never abandon him or turn him away. That Prowl would help when Jazz needed it. But there was still the need to try and do something to ensure those promises. Offering himself was one way that Jazz hoped will seal the deal, and something that Jazz remembered enjoying even before the additional code upgrades.

"I would very much enjoy that," Prowl willingly followed Jazz's lead in the kiss, his hands carefully exploring the frame he'd begun to learn to expand his knowledge of what made the Kalisite moan and tremble with pleasure. They were just as effective now as they had been before, causing the mech in his arms to tremble and moan with pleasure as the touches were returned.

Code memory or Jazz's own, the return touches were delivered with desire and hopeful passion. There was not an unwillingness to make this work, only the lingering fear that it would not.

"As long as we both are willing to try, it will work," Prowl promised between kisses and soft moans of his own. "What overload do you want the most?"

"Fill me." Jazz requested, nuzzling at Prowl's neck. He had learned many of Prowl's own preferences in the short time that they had been together, but right now he needed the assurance that he was still wanted and desired.

The flare of desire and arousal at the request was a clear sign that Prowl found it desirable on his own. "Yes, my lovely Jazz," he murmured and stroked, one hand moving to Jazz's aft to tease the back edge of his valve cover.

A whimper of _want_ escaped Jazz, his chest rubbing against Prowl's as the valve cover slid away and he pushed into the touch. Slender fingers caressed the platelets and rim, light and teasing, intending to create arousal as the hot oil masked any easy sign of how lubricated the passage was.

His mate continued to moan, aft rubbing back into the touch as Jazz focused on kissing and nipping Prowl's neck, the small nips altered with soothing caress of his glossa as his hands continued to roam the regal frame. It hardly took any time before he was clinging to Prowl's frame, his legs spread wide across Prowl's lap as his valve tried to squeeze the fingers gently stroking inside him. He could feel, teek how hot Prowl was long before he felt the lovely, simple spike slide between them.

Prowl's fingers withdrew to lift Jazz up so he could settle easily at his own pace on the filling spike he wanted.

"Prowl." The designation was soft, uttered with longing and desire before Jazz's lips met his mate's in a kiss that expressed the emotion in his tone.

Visor dark in concentration, Jazz settled back slowly, valve rippling and squeezing around the thick spike. Every centimeter was felt and savored, small shivers of delight running through the dark frame under Prowl's hands.

"Jazz," Prowl moaned willingly into the kiss, straining to hold still and allow Jazz to set the pace. "You feel so good."

There was a purr of pleasure at the praise that traveled through Jazz's entire frame. The smile on his lips matched the pride in his field as their interface arrays finally met and he ground his frame against his mate's.

"Good enough for you to claim?" Jazz whispered softly. "To take and mark as your own?"

"Yes," Prowl shuddered and moaned deeply at the suggestion, wanting it even as he didn't want to force the mech against him into anything. "I would very much enjoy that, having you because you want me."

"Want you." There was a different sureness behind the words, different from anything that had been offered in the past to Prowl. There was a personal teek to the desire, instead of mere compliance to something. "Want you, and to try this functioning you are offering."

In reply Prowl rolled his hips upwards, pressing deeply into Jazz's valve as his hands came to rest on the dark mech's hips. Slowly he drew Jazz up, only to pull him down hard to bury himself deep. The keen that issued from the dark mech was a vocal expression of the bliss that flared in his field. His hands gripped Prowl's shoulders tightly, more for his own balance than any fear as his valve grabbed tight at the welcome force filling and stretching him.

Prowl's moan was deep and rumbled with his engine as he repeated the cycle of lifting Jazz and driving into him, the pleasure building heat into their already heated frames. "You feel so good."

"Yours. For you now." Jazz panted, his frame burning everywhere that it touched Prowl's as the pace picked up. Their frames rubbed together, generating more pleasure, friction and heat even as their interface arrays began to tingle with the built up charge.

Prowl moaned deeply, quivering with the building pleasure he was trying to hold back despite the driving rhythm he set. 

There was no hesitation in Jazz as he moved to meet every thrust, following the guidance of the hands on his hips but the willingness and pleasure adding his own drive to the motion. Even now, amid the building bliss, he could feel things settling, falling and clicking into place in perfect order. He could feel it, the pulse of Prowl's pending overload, just before the Praxian moaned a half-coherent warning and pulled Jazz down hard into an equally powerful thrust.

Thick transfluid, thick even against the oil, burst into the small space between the tip of Prowl's spike and top of Jazz's valve to send a rush of energy directly into the pleasure lines of Jazz's neural net. Jazz keened, unable to help himself. The sudden rush from the sensor clusters in his valve, the energy of Prowl's field deep in his own and the other's pleasure. It was all more than enough to shove him violently over the edge, and he did nothing to fight the fall or the wave of bliss that carried him away in the pleasure of his frame.

When he came around to noticing his frame again Prowl was struggling to get him out of the hot oil that was now boiling and thin from their heat. With a groan Jazz forced his frame to try and help, grabbing on to the edge and shifting his weight in the same direction as Prowl's efforts. The combined effort soon had them both out of the oil and on the much cooler tile surrounding the bath.

Absently Jazz noted the posture Prowl had assumed. The spread out one of arms and legs, flat on his back was fairly normal, but it was interesting to note that his sensor wings were not just spread like his arms, but the three fingers had separated fully and were dumping heat at an incredible rate.

"Beautiful." He murmured, frame flush against the much cooler floor as it cycled air through to dispel the heat that had built in his own frame.

"Thank you," Prowl murmured in reply and turned his helm to watch Jazz with perfectly white optics. "I would make this work between us rather than have a hollow political bonding."

Jazz had no words for that. Instead he reached across the space between them, taking Prowl's hand in his and twining their fingers together as his field spoke of agreement. The field against his was warm, welcoming and supportive, but also very tired.

"I think moving to the berth would be good," Prowl murmured, though he was not all that inclined to move.

"I agree." Jazz said, his voice full of playful amusement as he teeked his mate and the actual lack of motivation to follow through on the words.

Another half a klik and Jazz rallied his strength and limited coordination, managing first a sitting position and then finally getting up on his knees. With a grin he looked at Prowl, challenging the Praxian to match him.

With a soft x-vent Prowl shifted, first to his side with an arm under him, then pushed up to his knees. With every motion his sensor wings shifted, folded, lifted or slid back. The process of moving and not pinning them was not a simple one.

Finally on his pedes, Prowl stood and offered Jazz a hand up as he signaled the oil pool to cool and drain.

Jazz accepted the hand and rose, trying to lift most of his weight himself and not pull on his mate too much. He appreciated the gesture, but was well aware of how drained they both were.

A little surprising, at least to Jazz, was how much more settled he was though. As though the exercise had pointed so much of the new code into its proper spots.

"Energon?" Prowl asked as they made a slow but steady walk to the berth. Neither cared about the slight trail of oil they were leaving or the mess they'd make of the berth. It could be cleaned when they weren't more interested in dropping into recharge.

"If there is more left it sounds like a good idea." Jazz agreed, squeezing Prowl's fingers lightly in thanks.

"On the berthside table," he twitched a sensor wing towards it before willingly dropping onto the soft padding with a relieved sound.

Jazz slid on to the berth with a soft sigh, reaching for the cube of energon that had been left there. Before even tasting it he held it out toward Prowl, offering him some first.

"It's for you," Prowl smiled softly and caressed Jazz's fingers as he gently nudged the cube back towards him.

With a small nod of acceptance Jazz pulled the energon back, starting in on the cube greedily, his field radiating satisfaction as the fuel hit his tank and calmed the demands for energy.

"Recharge well," Prowl murmured with a light caress before beginning his shutdown procedure.

* * *

Jazz followed the nurse from the recovery room where he had spent most of the last three orns. This was hopefully going to be his last check-up before they allowed him to go back to the temple with Prowl. It was still not home to him, at least not yet. But it was starting to feel a lot more like it, and much more welcoming than the medical facility. No matter how nice, in a Praxian way, it might be, it was still a hospital and good things never happened in hospitals.

Peace Code smiled and greeted him warmly when Jazz walked in. "Prowl sent word that he should be here before we are finished. If you would settle where you are comfortable, we can hopefully confirm that you are ready to walk out."

"I hope so." Jazz agreed as he settled in the now familiar chair. "You all have a nice place here, but..."

"It is not anywhere one wishes to stay," Peace Code smiled in complete agreement as he prepared to plug in. "Our best orn is always when a patient walks out, their code stable and under their control."

The connection was smooth and familiar now. It still wasn't something Jazz liked, but these scans were painless, unlike the code editing itself. The specialist had to poke and scan, reading him at a level Jazz didn't even understand how to read, but there was little to nothing actually done to him.

When Peace Code finally withdrew and unplugged, Jazz realized that Prowl was now sitting there, his wings spread hopefully and his field wrapped around Jazz in support.

"With all the usual cravats, I would say that he had adapted well," Peace Code smiled warmly at them. "I see no reason he needs to remain here any longer." His attention shifted to Jazz. "Though I would like to see you in a decaorn, a metacycle and a vorn to ensure the new coding remains stable and uncorrupted. It is extremely unlikely, but I did change several lines buried deep and it pays to be careful in monitoring it. I want you to call immediately if you begin to feel coding shift. You should be well past that point now."

"Thank you. I understand." Jazz said, shaking his frame in an attempt to make things feel like they were settled into place where they were supposed to be. However much it was necessary, the odd feeling of someone poking at his processor always left an itching sensation that seemed to take several joors to settle.

"Do you have any final questions before you leave?" Peace Code asked politely.

"I don't." Jazz answered quickly. In all honesty, he just wanted to be out of there. To see something else besides the walls of the compound and the twitchy feeling that he was always going to associate with the place.

"Then you may go, and enjoy your freedom," Peace Code said what almost sounded like a ritual farewell, and 'freedom' was definitely laden with subglyphs.

"Ready?" Prowl stood and offered his hand with a small smile.

Jazz bowed his helm to the physician before taking Prowl's hand and rising to join his mate. "I am."

"Thank you for coming to get me." Jazz said softly as they walked out together. "I know I have taken you from your duties a lot lately."

"It is worth it," Prowl responded simply as their honor guard quietly slipped in behind them. "Would you like to go to the temple, or visit something in the city first?"

"I'd like visiting something in the city with you, if you have the time." Jazz answered, field flaring to brush against Prowl's with just how appealing the idea was.

Everything that he had seen of Praxus so far had only pushed him to want to learn more of the city, and Jazz was eager to find out if that was a trait of his own, or something that had been encouraged by the coding.

"I have a few joors," Prowl assured him easily with a return brush of his field. "What appeals to you?"

"Some place where I can _move_?" Jazz requested hopefully. While he had been recovering at the medical facility, and his processor had been burning through a great deal of energy working through all of the new coding, it had still been stifling to a mech who was used to be very active.

"A race track, or something less structured?" Prowl suggested before transforming.

"There is something less structured than a race track in Praxus?" Jazz asked as he followed suit, now thoroughly intrigued by whatever his mate might have in mind.

::We call them free drive parks,:: Prowl chuckled and pulled away at a leisurely pace while keeping a sensor on his bonded for how badly he was wound up. ::The nicer ones such as we will be going to involve a section of land that you have all to yourself and your party. There are flat strips for fancy driving, those with obstacles to test your skill. Enforcers often reserve those. There are also some that are designed for stunt and trick driving.::

The darker mech was practically quivering with excitement even going down the road by the time that Prowl was done with his description. ::If you would enjoy it as well, a place like that sounds like a _lot_ of fun.:: Jazz said over a comm line, the eagerness reflected in the tone of the words.

::I would enjoy it,:: Prowl warmed at the eagerness. ::Which kind of lot sounds best?::

::An obstacle one. Something with different kinds of things to explore and experiment on.:: Jazz concluded quickly. It sounded like a challenge, and it sounded like fun, and both things were something that he was in the mood for at the moment.

::Done.:: Prowl replied after a moment and a comm to the park as they entered one of the main arteries of Praxus's web of roads. ::We have three joors before we'll need to leave.::

::Which kind do you prefer?:: Jazz asked as he fell in behind Prowl, matching the other's speed with ease and feeling much better now that they were leaving the medical facility far behind.

::It depends on my mood. The obstacle courses are generally the most enjoyable when I am not inclined to race, or far more often, chase.:: Prowl said with a lilting amusement. ::It is often easy to spot those with Enforcer backgrounds on the track no matter what they look like or do now. The drive to chase is very intense for most of us, nearly as strong as the drive to assist. Most with the coding either habitually come in second, or only take the lead in the last lap when we're out to enjoy ourselves. It's not unknown for a group of Enforcers to hire a faster frame to pace for them and give them something to chase around the track with the race's winner being the first Enforcer to cross, rather than the first mecha.::

::That sounds like fun as well.:: Jazz replied, recalling how his mate had moved and performed the one time they had been on a track together. ::Is the obstacle course designed for more than one mecha to be able to run it at once?::

::I'm not positive about the field we'll have, though it is likely. Most mecha are social beings who enjoy activities with others, so most fields are created with that in mind,:: Prowl said as he turned off the main road to a smaller six-lane road that headed out of the city.

::I look forward to seeing it.:: Jazz said, picking up speed so that he was almost riding Prowl's bumper, processor at work with a multitude of potential ideas and eager anticipation. His bonded's field was light with amusement, acceptance and a hint of anticipation himself as they neared the city limits. While still within the walls that marked the edge of the City of Praxus from the lightly populated planes around it, this was outside the heavy populated areas. A curve that rose a bit higher than normal gave Jazz a glimpse of the free drive park, which was more a long line of squares built up in different ways. Some were all but flat, and some of those were long and thin while others were more squared. Other squares were built up into ramps, slides and tunnels that were perfect to drive stunts on. The last design, one of which Prowl was leading him to, had barriers in addition to the ramps and slides, and a much more clearly defined path through the construction.

The gate opened for them as they pulled up, and Jazz stopped and transformed, scanning the area with his optics as he waited for everyone else to get comfortably arranged. The barriers that he could see looked manageable enough, though the slick looking surface on one was certainly going to add to the challenge of getting over. Another part of his processor was already wondering what other challenges might be hidden out of sight in the dips and areas not in view.

"Why don't you take a lap first, burn off some of that energy while I watch?" Prowl suggested.

There was no need to make the suggestion twice, Jazz barely sparing a moment to throw a smile of thanks Prowl's way before he transformed and took off down the marked course. The observers were treated to the occasional glimpse of him as tackled the course, hitting headlong initially, then back off a little bit towards the end and starting to take each obstacle a little more strategically, though with no less enthusiasm.

His field was bright with excitement and the anticipation of another round by the time he rejoined his mate, still brimming with energy but more settled than focused as he transformed by Prowl. "This is wonderful."

"Ready to race me on it?" Prowl's field licked at Jazz's with anticipation and approval.

"Unless you would like a solo run first." Jazz offered, trying to be fair. He had no idea how often the course might be altered, or when the last time Prowl might have been able to come out.

"No need," Prowl gave a friendly challenging flick of his long sensor wings and transformed to roll to the starting point.

Jazz laughed and followed suit. ::Who gets to say 'go'? :: He asked, engine revving beside his mate.

::Blacktip?:: Prowl suggested one of the guards.

Jazz revved in agreement, tense and waiting on the start line. He was so worked up he almost spun out when the command was given, loosing precious time and ground to his 'opponent'. His first solid view after the race began was of Prowl's taillights half a length ahead of him and moving fast.

With another rev of his engine Jazz set off. He didn't concentrate too much on what Prowl was doing, just whether the mech was in front of him or behind as he tackled each obstacle with his own style. Walls and barriers were scaled or cleared with grace, some involving swift changes between root and alt mode. Inclines taxed his engine more, but descents were controlled and smooth. Straight-aways were tackled with sprints and determination.

He began to perceive a pattern as this was matched up to the racetrack memories. He had the faster alt and a faster transformation sequence. On straight-aways and where flat out speed of some kind was the advantage, he gained ground. Where torque, power or strategy came into play more, he lost ground. Either way, he was having a grand time, and when he got close enough to Prowl, he could teek that the other was enjoying it thoroughly as well. That pushed him to try even harder, and then they hit the end of the course, he wasn't more than half a length behind his mate. 

He was already laughing as he transformed, the sounds pure happiness and enjoyment as he turned and tackled Prowl in loose hug, catching the other for a quick kiss as well.

Prowl stiffened in his grasp, surprised and slightly uncomfortable. "Another round? There is time."

Jazz stepped back the instant Prowl stiffened, his field brushing against Prowl's apologetically. "Another run, or a little different game? Catch me if you can, maybe?"

"I would enjoy that," Prowl relaxed the moment he was released and his field brushed against Jazz's in acceptance and desire for the game. "A one hundred and twenty nanoklik lead?"

"You're too kind." Jazz teased. "And you turn your back." He suggested, adding another layer of challenge.

Prowl's sensor wings flicked slightly in amusement and he turned to look towards Praxus and the still visible temple that he presided over.

"Awaiting your word." Jazz said, stepping up to the start line and already mapping out a plan in his processor.

"Go," Prowl said in his full commanding voice, a tonal set that Jazz hadn't heard before from his bonded but responded to reflexively. It sent a shiver through Jazz's frame as he took off, attempting silence and speed as he dove and darted through the course, taking advantage of the fact that there were at least a dozen ways to run it. All too soon he heard the roar of Prowl's more powerful engine not far behind him.

That was a different sort of encouragement, driving his focus all the higher. There was no fear, only enjoyment of the game and determination to do well as he whipped around a barrier instead of going over, intending to change direction and hoping to mask his tracks a little. Sound, the tone and volume of Prowl's engine, was Jazz's key to keeping tabs on how close his hunter was to him.

It was thrilling. Utter freedom. He could go anywhere, take any route, use any tricks, and even if he was caught, there was only the joy of the game. He'd teeked it in Prowl. As serious as the mech could be, he loved to go fast as much as Jazz did, and he loved to challenge himself too. Prowl's engine drew closer, prompting Jazz to focus on another trick. This was a new opponent, one he was still learning. 

Pulling up the map of the course, he noticed that he was coming up on three parallel tunnels. Taking a gamble, he shot through the middle one at top speed, cutting his engine in the middle so that he coasted to the end, and promptly backed into the right hand tunnel on the other side, going as quiet as possible without shutting down completely.

He heard, then saw, Prowl shoot past him, hot on his trail. The red mech was nearly out of sight when he skidded and twisted to a stop and landed on his pedes. The intensity in his frame and bright white optics as he searched for a trace of his quarry made it very easy to believe everything Prowl had said about the hunt-drive coding going deep.

Jazz was left to debate sitting completely still, or going with his original plan to finish backing out of the tunnel and head in the opposite direction. When it seemed like Prowl's attention had shifted away from his current hiding spot Jazz started to roll quietly backwards, engine still idle and systems as silent as he could make them. He made it all the way to the far end without Prowl spotting him.

All Jazz could do was hope that was enough of a head start as he gunned his engine and spun around, taking off at full speed in the opposite direction. He heard the powerful engine roar to life behind him, but the trick had indeed bought him some distance. Now he just had to finish the course before his lead was eaten up again.

With the finish line his goal now, Jazz put everything he had into getting there as quickly as possible. The shortest route he could figure, his best moves and his top speed. The roar of Prowl's engine came up behind him, gaining, though slowly. In this straightaway Jazz had the advantage, even if it was a small one. The mech behind him must be redlining himself to make any kind of progress.

With a flare of glee Jazz gunned it, crossing the finish line less than a length in front of his bonded and immensely proud of himself as he skidded to a stop and transformed to face Prowl.

"You are good," Prowl actually _purred_ , his field expressing great enjoyment, pride and a desire for a rematch.

"Thank you. That was _fun_." Jazz said as he slipped close enough for easy field contact, but not so close that he was physically touching his bonded this time. "I would like to do it again, soon."

His field teeked of how settled he was finally, energy levels a little lower than normal and his systems still running hot from the chase.

"I am sure we will," Prowl's voice was a low rumble. "It was very enjoyable. Are you ready for energon and recharge in our berth?"

"I think so." Jazz said, stepping a little closer, looking at his mate and silently asking permission to touch.

Prowl shifted uneasily, his field just as uncomfortable, but he offered his arm in a formal motion for Jazz to rest his on as a sort of middle ground offer. Jazz took the gesture gracefully, hiding his disappointment well as he walked with Prowl back to the entrance where they transformed for the drive to the temple near the center of the city. It was a quiet drive. Jazz didn't feel like talking and Prowl knew he'd disappointed Jazz because of cultural differences that were best left unspoken in public.

Their guards left behind to other duties, the pair took the lift to their quarters and stepped inside. Jazz vented softly as the door shut behind them, his field teeking of relief at being some place that was familiar. "Energon?" He asked quietly, asking what his mate wanted more than wondering if Prowl wanted any.

"Yes, please," Prowl answered even as he offered a soft caress of Jazz's arm and a mute apology through his field. "I am sorry to ruin your good mood."

"Thank you." Jazz own field answered that he knew it was not intentional. "I just...do not understand what I did wrong."

"Praxian nobility and the Order do not touch much in public. We are a visual culture rather than a tactile one," Prowl tried to explain. "I'm sure you've noticed the intricacy of even commoner markings, and you've had some lessons on reading priest markings. Like Seekers, we rely on sight more than contact. It is only in private that we touch."

Jazz vented again, processing that, before turning away. "I'll get the energon. Where do you want me to bring it?"

"The library?" Prowl suggested as he walked with his bonded to the room that held the energon and his prize collection of book and datafiles, and the far more rare and invaluable written-out hardcopies that were more works of art than for reading. "We can relax for a while before recharging."

"All right." Jazz agreed, breaking off to fetch the energon as they entered the large room. It was only the work of a few kliks to mix up energon to suit his own taste and what he knew that his bonded preferred. Soon he was offering Prowl a cube, then looking around to decide which seat he wanted. He still did not have a favorite among the ones available, testing out ones depending on his mood more often then not.

"Thank you," Prowl politely accepted the cube and sipped on it as he waited for Jazz to settle down. "How is your code feeling?"

"Normal." Jazz responded, pulling his attention the question and testing before he answered. "I think it has finally settled, for the most part."

"Good," Prowl smiled and physically relaxed as he sipped the energon. "I think Kalis culture might bear more resemblance to Kaon and Tyger Pax than the cities Praxus is more strongly allied with."

"From what I have heard, and what little I know." And wasn't that a painful admission for Jazz to make, "I think you are right. So, if I am not allowed to touch you," And something in that made Jazz's spark hurt just a little, "How can I show affection?"

"In public?" Prowl asked, wanting to make sure they were discussing the same thing. When Jazz nodded, Prowl had to really look at his frame in a new light. "It is done with wing posture, proximity and expression normally. While you can not use the wing posturing, the other two seem to come naturally for you." He considered the mech across from him for a steady moment. "Would you tell me what is normal to you, so we can come to a compromise?"

"Hugging, kissing, holding hands...all very physical. Nothing overly intimate, but I am used to very hands on expressions of affection. Ownership." Jazz mused, finally sipping at his own energon.

Prowl hummed as he processed that, running thousands of combinations and scenarios through social protocols before he spoke nearly three kliks later. "I do not wish to display ownership of you. However, would you find holding hands acceptable as a primary public display of our status? If you would normally kiss me, or I you, there is an older display that is more agreeable to the upper ranks. Touching forehelms. With two Praxians, the chevron shields line up," he reached up to slide a finger down his own, drawing Jazz's attention to the rich gold between the two long arms of the chevron. For the first time Jazz realized it wasn't blank.

"Holding hands would be nice." Jazz decided, well aware of how much he could communicate to his bonded through the simple looking touch, if Prowl was willing. It would also fill the need to touch and be touch that Jazz had without bothering Prowl too much, he hoped.

"Then we may hold hands in public," Prowl stated with all the authority he had out in that world and refused to bring into his quarters.

"As for the other..." Jazz set his energon on a side table and rose to stand before his mate. Leaning down his fingers traced the chevron's shield, pausing as he suddenly noticed designation glyphs integrated into the sweeping designs engraved there. Their designations. "Prowl?"

The Praxian gave him a slight smile. "We are a very visual frametype and culture. It is customary for bonded mecha to engrave their chevron with the designations of those in the bond."

Something new, something rather wonderful and appealing to Jazz as he leaned his helm forward, the center of his forehelm just touching the chevron's shield. "Like this?" He asked quietly.

"Yes," Prowl's voice hitched slightly as his field uncurled with a deep sense of arousal that was purely emotional.

Jazz shivered as the field rolled over him, filling something and settling something small in his coding into place that had still been floating about. "I like this."

"Good," Prowl forced himself to calm down from the intensely intimate contact. "This can replace kissing for you, when in public?"

"If it is all right with you." Jazz agreed, backing off and processing the effect it had on his bonded. "I like the way it makes you feel."

Prowl nodded and gradually calmed down. "Just never do that with someone you don't intend to bond with."

"It means that much here?" Jazz asked, settling back in his chair and clearly surprised. Kissing, touching, dominant holding...that was all _expected_ in Kalis.

"It evolved from a gesture meaning to combine," Prowl sipped at his energon. "Processors, sparks, becoming one willingly. During a funeral the touch by a priest is also to indicate the spark has become one with Primus, to remind the survivors not to grieve for the one gone, only for their loss."

Jazz nodded, thoughtful, and his next words came out almost shyly. "Is there something I can do that you would like? Something for others to see?" He asked, making a small motion to Prowl's helm and the glyphs engraved there.

"Yes," Prowl's voice was a low, seductive and very hot rumble. "But only after you are sure you want to be marked in such a way. After the code settles, with a clear processor."

Jazz nodded again, but he was still curious. "What sort of things do non-Praxians do for their bondmates?"

"The bonded engraving in the same location," he touched his chevron's shield and carefully couched his choices in general terms so not to put too much pressure on Jazz's settling code while using subharmonics to clue him into what he personally liked. "Paint works as well, for those that do not wish the pain of engraving. Others will select a complementary paint scheme, or local alt. A few will even go through with frame alterations to appear more Praxian and have full use of our dialect."

"So there are a lot of choices." Jazz mused, processor playing around with many of the options, trying different combinations in his imagination. "I can work with that, when you think I am ready. Or when I get bored."

"If it is when you are bored, I will anticipate your alterations within the decaorn," Prowl teased. "Even if I would recommend waiting longer."

Jazz chuckled and finished off his energon, much more at ease and his good mood shining bright once more when Prowl stood and offered his hand.

"Ready to recharge, my bonded?" Prowl asked softly, his harmonics offering more than that if desired.

"Recharge, yes. After we are both settled in for the night." Jazz purred, squeezing Prowl's hand suggestively and taking as slight lead in the trip to the berthroom. He was rewarded with a low rumble of desire-approval and a very agreeable mate.


	4. Social Standards

The suite was quiet, but Jazz was used to that by now. His bonded's orns were long, just as he had been warned. Prowl was often up and gone before Jazz was completely out of recharge, and there were some orns where his mate came back so late that he roused Jazz from wherever the dark mech had fallen into recharge that orn so they could both head to the berthroom and berth.

The chamber still made Jazz twitch enough that he did not spend much time in there alone, something about it still deeply unsettling to him.

His own orns were filled with classes, both of the common variety free to everyone who was a citizen of Praxus, and the more in depth tutoring that was directed specifically at him as the mate of the High Priest. Class this orn had been interesting, and deeply confusing to the mech, and Jazz was still mulling over it as he settled on the long lounge that was quickly becoming his favorite seat with his evening energon to mull over the topic of the orn.

It had sounded simple enough, just a public access class on the duties of the Order that was offered twice a metacycle to anyone who wished to come. While there was a smattering of Praxian adults there, most seemed to be younglings and foreigners like himself. He suspected the younglings were there to be watched over more than learn, but the three-panel Akiani teaching it didn't seem to mind.

So Jazz had spent the orn listening to the four functions of the Order.

Remember, Record, Respect, Retell.

It _sounded_ simple enough when first listed, and three of the four played out to be as straightforward and logical as Jazz had presumed.

Respect though, that one blew his processors, and not in a good way. It was full of statements that just made no sense.

It was almost a direct contradiction to the way that Jazz had been raised, the emphasis placed on helping others and respecting the world they inhabited. And where the levels of power fell...

There were some parts that he could process. Assistance for the poor, abused and in need. The value placed on education free of charge to all. The emphasis placed on funeral and deactivation services so none would have to deactivate alone or be without a funeral. Those were things that he had already seen exemplified by his own mate. Others though, were still making his processor spin, even if they did make clearer some of Prowl's other actions.

He was still working his way through some of it with only limited success when his mate finally entered more than three joors later.

"It seems you had a thought-provoking orn," Prowl said with a curious tilt of his long sensor wings.

"The public social culture class was this orn." Jazz said, standing to greet his mate. Stepping into Prowl's field and arms he tipped his helm until it touched his mate's with the predictable effect of making Prowl slightly wobbly. "Evening energon?" He asked.

"That would be pleasant," Prowl purred and claimed Jazz's mouth for a long, languid but chaste kiss before letting him go.

"Anything special, or just the usual?" Jazz asked over his shoulder as he walked away. He was rather used to his bonded's habits by now, and suspected that he already knew the answer. But every now and then Prowl surprised him, and that was always fun.

"My usual, please," Prowl said as he took his preferred seat near Jazz's favorite lounge. "What aspect made you so thoughtful?"

"It was on the responsibilities of the Order." Jazz explained as he fetched Prowl's energon and offered the small cube to his bonded before settling on the lounge with his own after meal energon. "A great deal I can understand. But the third point...that was difficult for me to understand."

"Respect. The responsibilities of the Order to the people," Prowl nodded. "What aspects?"

"The idea that all sparks are equal." Jazz started with the first one. "In Kalis, the value of the spark is not even talked about. At all. Value is all on the status of the individual."

Prowl was still as he processed that. "I knew the Order was weak and largely corrupt in Kalis. I did not realize they had given up even trying," He scowled slightly. "Thank you for that knowledge. All sparks come from Primus, all return to Primus. If the priest who calls a spark does their duty, it will be well-suited to its function and frame. That function does not make one spark more or less valuable than another. They are _all_ a piece of Primus."

There was a long klik of silence as Jazz swirled the energon in his cube. "It may not be entirely the Order's fault, but then if it is also the responsibility to keep the Lords in check, somehow, maybe it is."

"As you are aware, the Lords of Kalis are no more. While Kalis has never been a strongly faithful city, with the loss of its rulers the Order also lost its rightful place because the citizenry did not insist they maintain what power they had under the old system." Prowl said quietly, his tone sad for the truth. "The circumstances that brought your family to power would never have happened with a functional government. The Order bears some of the blame. I have no doubt of that. Some falls to the royals that permitted oligarchs to gain enough power to get rid of them. Most falls on the oligarchs that could not accept what they were called to be. The rest falls to the citizens that accepted the loss of their leaders."

"So no one, and everyone. And my family most of all." Jazz mused, saddened and guilty. How his family had come to power two generations back was muddled, and painted by the winner.

"Since they won, they do have to take a large share of the fault," Prowl agreed just as sadly. "So many things had to fail for such a coup to take place, including a complete failure of all points of leadership. I can not say I am surprised that what power the Order had when the coup finished was curtailed as rapidly as possible. The first thing one needs to do after taking over is to silence the opposition in a way that will not bring the wrath of the outside down on you. Whether the coup was a good or bad thing has yet to be seen, though from my perspective it is a disaster waiting to unfold."

"Agreed. Especially if the rest of what you teach is just as important." Jazz said. "There is little respect for individuals, and self respect is not preached very much. I was pushed before I was sent to you to shape myself into something that would please you, no matter what I wanted or could really manage it." He pointed out softly. He could see that in himself now. The changes had been painful. The changes back just as bad and just as painful, but at least he was himself now and his bonded _wanted_ him that way.

"So I gathered. I am relieved I came to understand the extent of your compliance coding before it did more damage," Prowl paused to sip his drink. "Has it given you any more trouble?"

"Not trouble." Jazz decided. "There are still small things moving here and there, but they are things that I like and want."

Prowl nodded slightly, the first time Jazz had seen him do so, in conjunction with a cant of sensor wings. "That is good. Was there anything else in the class that was difficulty to understand?"

"Not to understand. New and strange, but I understand the reasons behind them." Jazz replied as his field reached out to brush against Prowl's, thanks and affection in the light touch for the effort that Prowl was making. Prowl's field brushed back with his growing affection for the effort Jazz was making, his thanks for the potential to have their bonding be more than an empty political statement.

"Good," Prowl hummed. "Anything you wished to discuss about them, then?"

"Not specifically. The rest of it- remembering, recording, and passing on knowledge makes sense. Except, how do you decide what should be passed on?" Jazz asked, wondering.

Prowl cycled his optics, stunned by the question that went so far against his reality he had some difficulty comprehending it. "It is against our very base tenets to hide or forget knowledge."

There was a quiet hum as Jazz worked on processing that as well. "Then there is no filtering system beyond the honor of the individual that what they are recording and teaching is truth?"

"Records are open to all. If an account comes into question, it will be investigated and amended as needed," Prowl said, reminded himself that not all temples were as honorable as his own. "It should be understood by all that accounts are exactly that; what the priest experienced or was told. Things recorded as factual history have been compiled from multiple accounts, often in the thousands, to something we are reasonably certain is an accurate account with limited personal bias."

"So the records are more like...personal journals of things that you are willing to share or feel need to be shared? And then official histories are sort of compiled from those?" Jazz asked, trying to piece it all together in a way that he could understand.

"Yes," Prowl nodded. "The Srila are highly trained in how to notice and record important details as well as how to write in a largely impersonal manner. It is primarily their accounts that are used to write the histories, but all accounts of those who have sworn it is accurate from their perspective are included in our records and may be drawn on. I suppose we do rely on honor a great deal, both the honor of the one recording the account and any who challenge the account. At some point a mecha's honor is what you must rely on."

"True." Jazz agreed, growing settled once more, his processor working that over but much more content than it had been when Prowl had first joined him earlier that evening.

"Is there anything else you wish to talk about?" Prowl asked.

Jazz shook his helm before rolling gracefully from the lounge to his pedes. "No, thank you for making it clear though." He crossed the small space to Prowl and leaned in to kiss his bonded. "You are probably ready for the berth anyway."

"I am," Prowl hummed and drew Jazz against him as he stood, deepening the kiss and allowing his field to unfurl, expressing his desire to do more than recharge in the berth.

* * *

Jazz knew something big was up when an artisia, a priest with an artistic specialty, was scheduled to detail him for three full joors shortly before dinner and asked him to be ready in the Barasi's suite's washrack for it. Still, compliance was an easy thing, and no one had discouraged him from asking questions, so maybe he could get details while the priest worked, provided this was one of the more talkative ones, and not one that became so absorbed in their work that they occasionally forgot that they were working on a functioning individual. So Jazz was waiting in the washrack when the priest and two priests-in-training arrived, having taken the initiative to make himself as clean as possible beforehand in the hopes of making thing easier all around.

"Ah, thank you," the artisia smiled warmly as he took in Jazz's state. "I am Brightouch. My assistants are Rarelight and Dreamcatcher. Have you been artisan-detailed before?"

"If what they did for the bonding ceremony counts, yes. But not since then, and I never really had before then either." Jazz replied, relaxing and warming in response to the friendly question and the praise.

"It does in what you need to do, though not the results," Brightouch said easily with an optic on the setup of tools, paint and devices laid out by his assistants on a folding table. "Tonight is not that special by any means. If you would stand with your arms and legs spread so we can strip the wax and sealant, please."

"So what is going on tonight?" Jazz asked as he moved into the requested stance, holding arms out and settling into a relaxed stance that he could hold for a long time.

"Dinner at the royal palace with a few of the Barasi's friends," Brightouch told him as he began to spray Jazz down with the solvent to strip the protective layers from his paint. "As your first official meeting with most of them, you should look your best."

"Oh..." That was not what Jazz was expecting, and a small tension rippled through his field as he processed that. "Just a really nice touch-up then?" He asked, seeing if he could derive more from what they were going to do.

"Yes. It won't be the elaborate extras of the ceremony. Technically, this is a casual meal with friends. Those friends just happen to include the Lord of Praxus, his bonded, the Barasi of Praxus and the Lord of Law and this is the first time you'll be formally introduced to most of them."

Jazz sighed, and made a note to mention to his mate that more specific details for scheduled events like this would be nice, even though he probably should have expected 'friends' on that level, considering who his mate was. "Just them, of course." He said as he turned obediently once they were done with the stripping agent.

"Akiani Honor will also be attending," Brightouch said as he went to work on Jazz's finish. "Do you have a preference between sharp color delineation or cross-faded?"

For a klik Jazz considered his options. "Cross-faded." He finally decided. It was distinct deviation from his norm, but for some reason this orn he was in the mood to try new things.

The artisan twitched his wings in understanding and began to hum as he worked. His field, and those of his assistants, was smooth and definitely happy as they worked for the next half joor. 

"How much freedom may I have for highlights and details?"

"Whatever you think looks good and appropriate." Jazz answered quickly, giving the mech free rein. Fashion had never been his strong suit, and what little sense he had was probably completely out of place here in Praxus.

A flare of delight and pride answered before Brightouch went to work with careful application of bright and metallic colors. There were many pauses were he backed off and walked around Jazz, contemplating the overall effect before going back to work.

"Is your visor for vision, enhancement or decorative?" Brightouch asked after more than two joors of fussy work that he was undeniably enjoying.

"Enhancement. I can see fine without it, much better with it." Jazz informed him, turning his helm just a little so he could see Brightouch better, but not so far that he was in any danger of damaging the work that had been done.

"Have you considered getting one that could vary in colors, or multiple ones to select from? Your base coloration is one that would allow for many visors to look good and changing it could make your highlights take on different effects," Brightouch suggested before dabbing a bit more gold along the multi-color stripe down Jazz's chestplates.

"No." Jazz admitted, suddenly seriously considering the idea. "I guess I never realized such a thing was an option."

"Depending on how that one was installed, the connection points and interface software may need to be modified," Brightouch said as he switched to adding a slightly darker, shimmering green above Jazz's visor. "After that, it's something you can change yourself to suit your mood or needs."

"That would be fun." Jazz mused, careful to be still as Brightouch worked. A thought occurred to him suddenly, sparked by the feel of the paint across his forehelm.

"I know it's rather late in your design." He started hesitantly. "But would it be too much trouble to find a way to add Prowl's designation in somewhere?"

"Not difficult at all," the artisia brightened considerably in delight that he'd asked. When he'd finished the three-tone line along Jazz's upper visor edge he shifted to silver and an extremely fine tipped brush. Three colors and twenty kliks later Brightouch stepped back and did a last walk around Jazz, humming in approval. "Would you like to look to make changes before we seal, wax and buff you?"

"Nah. I'm sure any changes I'd make would just mess things up." Jazz said, quietly very pleased with what he could see of the work that had been done. It was very much not his normal, far more extravagant for an evening with 'friends' than he could have envisioned.

But he _liked_ it.

Brightouch flicked his sensor wings in acceptance as his field flickered with a bit of pride at Jazz's blanket approval of his work before he and his assistants began the hard but simple work of sealing, waxing and polishing him to a lovely low-gloss shine. Unlike the detail work, this was where the assistants did more than make sure the correct color and brush was handed over. In their touch Jazz could feel that they were confident in their skill at this stage of the process.

Jazz heard the soft whoosh of the washrack door slide open from the work/craft room side where he was beginning to grow a few simple crystals in an out of the way corner that Prowl didn't seem to use. It meant that his bonded had walked the full circle of the suite before finding him.

"You look very good," Prowl's tone was a purr of definite desire, suppressed but there.

"Thank you. Though most of the thanks belongs to them, since they did all of the work." Jazz said, his field reflecting his own thanks for the others to feel. "All I had to do was stand here and obey orders."

"Which you...." Prowl's vocalizer caught and his optics flashed when his gaze slid over his designation glyph painted on where the chevron's shield would be if Jazz had been Praxian.

"It was his request, Barasi," Brightouch smiled at his leader.

"Thank you," Prowl canted his wings and stepped close enough for Jazz to teek just how delighted and honored he felt.

Happiness and a touch of embarrassment met his field as Jazz smiled. The darker mech had hoped his choice would please, but this seemed to go even deeper than mere pleasing, and it felt good to have done so for his bonded. He also noted at this range that Prowl had more of a clean-up and detailing than he usually sported, though it wasn't to the level that Jazz had been treated to.

"We will be done in a breem, Barasi," Brightouch told them both as he focused back on Jazz's final buffing.

Prowl canted his sensor wings in understanding and settled out of the way but where he could watch and talk to Jazz easily.

"Tried a couple of changes tonight." Jazz comment, more from the need to talk in the moment than the sharing of any vital information. "Brightouch helped."

"They look good. You look good," Prowl replied, his optics still roving over the new details. "You remind me of a storm now."

That wasn't the description that Jazz had been expecting, and as soon as Brightouch was done he was definitely going to have to get a turn in front of the full-length mirror. But Prowl was pleased, at least, and if Prowl was pleased he couldn't look bad by local standards.

The silence held as the artisias finished and he was shown himself in the small 360 degree mirror room that didn't just show all around, but above and below as well. It was much as he thought he looked like. Black and white, with a gradient boarder between the colors, a fairly thin five color stripe of red, blue, white, gold and silver down his alt mode centerline and the subtle hints of color around his visor, on shoulders, hips and forearms, then Prowl's designation glyph on his forehelm.

Once both Jazz and Prowl approved, Brightouch and his assistants bowed and left the couple.

"You do look very good, softer too," Prowl purred.

"You like the changes?" Jazz asked, running a hand down his own arm and very pleased with them himself. "Other then having the colors blended, I told Brightouch to do whatever he thought would look good."

"You have good instincts, then," Prowl stepped close and allowed his approval to wash through their fields. "I am pleased you like what he designed for you."

"Well, and I asked for this too." He added, touching the glyph on his forehelm lightly.

Prowl shivered faintly and leaned forward to kiss the glyph very lightly. "Thank you. I did not hope you would do so this soon."

"It only seemed fair." Jazz pointed out, reaching up to brush his fingers over the engravings on Prowl's shield. " And it's paint, so if you didn't like it I figured it could be changed. I also hoped it would make a good impression on your friends tonight. Which you might have warned me about, by the way."

"Warned you about?" Prowl raised an optic ridge, but his field expressed his confusion. "You've met them all."

"Yes, but we're going out. I'm...still not entirely sure about what I am doing." That was a hard admission for Jazz to make, but he couldn't lie to Prowl. It didn't feel right on the deepest level to even consider such a thing.

Prowl's field gentled and he reached forward to caress Jazz's jaw with his thumb. "You will refuel with myself and a few friends. You'll be your normal, social, charming self and you will have spent a bit more time with mecha that are good to be on good terms with."

"Politics, even here." Jazz said with a smile as he leaned into the touch and the warm caress of his bonded's field. "I am ready then, whenever you are."

"When one is a being of rank, yes, politics are everywhere," Prowl confirmed before offering his arm for Jazz to take as they walked. "I am ready."

The arm was accepted, Jazz falling into perfect step beside his mate. "How far is it?"

"The palace is not far," Prowl said as they walked to the lift. "It is a small gathering. Lord Skysound and his bonded Lord Evenway, Lockcheck and Honor."

"Ah." Jazz did relax then, as he recognized all of the designations. Honor was a friend, and Lockcheck he had met several times and while they weren't friends by any stretch the Lord of Law seemed to be a decent enough mech and he was definitely a friend of Prowl's. The Lords he had only met once, at the bonding ceremony, but he knew that Prowl was on good terms with them. It was now not so worrisome to him if he were to make a mistake, sure that it would be forgiven and overlooked without harming Prowl in any way. It occurred to him as their honor guard fell in around them just before transforming to drive out of the temple grounds that Prowl had no doubt planned it that way. These were important mecha, mecha who he needed to make friends with, but he had his mate and a friend already among them and the other three would give him exposure to the etiquette standards he'd only dealt with in classes up to now.

It wouldn't be a completely pleasant evening, but it wasn't going to do harm if he slipped up.

The drive was a short as Prowl had promised, and Jazz got his first up close look at what was the palace of the Royal family of Praxus. As they passed through the first set of gates he was struck by how different it was from Kalis. The place was secure, well guarded, but a work of art like the rest of the city. This was the residence of a ruler that did not fear the populous, or an invasion. Not like the fortress compound that had once been his home. 

Prowl transformed and was greeted not by guards or an aid, but by the Lord of Praxus himself with a smile and genuinely pleasant field.

"Skysound, my bonded, Jazz," Prowl introduced him.

"You look far more settled than the last time we met," Skysound canted his sensor wings in a friendly greeting to a near-equal.

Jazz bowed smoothly, hoping he had found the right angle of respect as he straightened once more. "Everyone had been most kind, and I appreciate the efforts to make me feel welcome. They have been very successful." He teeked the pleasure Prowl took at the statement.

"We are pleased to hear that, and I hope that you continue to like Praxus." Skysound replied with a smile as another mech stepped forward beside Skysound.

"Basari Prowl, Jazz, we are so glad that you are able to join use tonight." The mech greeted them softly, rich blue accents warm beneath a white shield and gold chevron.

"Jazz, my bondmate, Evenway." Skysound said, making another introduction, and prompting Jazz to bow again with a murmured, 'my pleasure.'

"It is a pleasure to meet you in such relaxed circumstances," Evenway smiled. "Such a ceremony never gives a proper introduction to the mecha." He perked up slightly.

"Come, we can sit and enjoy a drink before dinner," Skysound ushered them inside, leaving Evenway to greet the priest who was driving up.

Jazz glanced backwards before following the Lord inside, looking around at the palace as they entered through the large grand door and taking in the spacious entryway that was clearly meant to impress and if he was honest, very much did. The very walls seemed to glow gently, shades of white and soft blue that were oddly welcoming. Potted crystal arrangements caught his attention immediately, his processor taking note of all the kinds he knew and some that he was not sure that he had encountered yet.

They ended in a cozy library with more ornamentation but fewer actual books than Prowl's personal one, and Jazz had no doubt that this was Prowl's favorite spot in the palace just by how smooth and warm his field was on stepping inside. The seating was intimate in a friendly way and the older mechs settled with the ease of long familiarity, though not before Prowl gently nudged Jazz to a seat next to his favorite. A servant was there with four cubes of effervescent high grade for them, each flavored to taste already.

Jazz settled in the chair, politely hiding in face and field how uncomfortable the level of stiffness and the straight back angle was he accepted the cube. He waited a moment, allowing Skysound and Prowl to sample theirs before tasting his own.

"Jazz, I understand that Prowl had your compliance coding scrubbed. Have you been able to settle in after that?" Skysound asked politely.

"It was a big change, and I am still adjusting to the changes. I am thankful that he was willing to have such a thing done, and I look forward learning to live without it." Jazz admitted, thinking. "It has made adjusting more difficult, but now I have the chance to be myself, and hopefully still please him just as much."

"Prowl is diligent in following his words with actions," Skysound gave the priest a knowing look. "I regret that it was installed in the first place, though I am most grateful that it was discovered as soon as it was, for your sake and for that of my creation that went to your elder sister. The lack of it in him was already causing problems that this knowledge has eased."

"I can imagine. My sister, at least, is not the bad sort. If stubborn and often determined to have her way." Jazz said with a small smile, summing up Aria's worst traits. Of all his siblings she had been one that he had been closer too, both of them being raised by the same mate of their primary creator. Their youngling spats had brought the wrath of the House down on them more than once. But it was after the punishment for those same spats that they could often be found recharging in the same berth, snuggled together against the world.

"A typical first creation in that," Skysound chuckled. "They have gotten along much better once she grasped the limitations of the adaptation coding he had relative to what she was used to. Though she did demand that _I_ explain what was going on with not giving him 'proper coding' before he was sent and some ranting about the refusal to have it installed."

A flash of bright amusement danced across Prowl's field, though he held his frame still.

"That sounds very much like her." Jazz agreed with another smile, finally starting to relax enough that his field spread out to brush against his mate's. There was no doubt that Prowl was in a good mood and generally relaxed here and with this company. It was a good sign for the meal to come.

"So, Jazz, what have you found the most enjoyable in Praxus?" Skysound asked.

"On a personal level? The crystal structures. I also appreciate the amount of public art and education that is available. Prowl has taken me to one of the galleries several times, and I have enjoyed each visit." Jazz informed him.

"That is good to hear." Skysound replied, clearly honestly pleased as his attention shifted to Prowl, allowing Jazz to relax more and concentrate on his pre-dinner energon snack. "And what about you Prowl? Has your mate managed to surprise you with anything in particular yet?"

"Yes," the red Praxian purred deeply. "He is a delight to race with on the track and in free drive parks, a pleasure in the berth and has impressed quite a few priests in how quickly he learns when motivated. We're still finding our tires, but I believe we have enough in common to have a good existence together. My greatest fear was quashed early on."

"You were worried about me?" Jazz asked, keying in on that last phrase suddenly, his attention completely focused on his bonded. Since it had been given in the past tense he was not worried about it in the moment, but it would be nice to know for in the future.

"It is common for noble subordinate mates to be very ... attentive," Prowl said carefully. "A mecha who needed to be near me, to attend to me constantly would have been very difficult on us both with my duties. You seem to entertain yourself nicely while I work."

Jazz relaxed and actually laughed a little. "You were warned when the coding was removed that there was a reason it was there, especially in me. I don't think I was called to be a subordinate mate. Or a least not a good, traditional one."

"Which is good, considering I do not wish one," Prowl smiled softly at him. "I would much prefer a happy, productive mate who is involved in something they care deeply about to one trying to dance attendance to me."

Skysound couldn't help but smile himself at the exchange. At least on the surface Jazz appeared to be far from the typical second or subordinate creation, but it seemed like he and Prowl were a good fit, which was going to be far more important in the long run.

"And how are things at the temple Prowl?" Skysound inquired. He knew that there could be nothing serious going on, or he surely would of heard of it. But sometimes even the little orn to orn things- a new discovery, a new spark called, could be of interest.

"Running smoothly," Prowl purred with a very clear flare of pride in his sensor wings and field. "My subordinates have done an exemplary job of maintaining order and duties during the orns I was away. I could not be more proud of the temple right now. It was a delight to return to have the work of the orn done, filed and without flaw."

"Which is always a pleasure to hear." Skysound nodded with equal pride. The Temple was such a central part of Praxus that problems there could quickly spill over into the general population, a concern for the mecha charged with governing it. It was also the first real test of Prowl's ability to delegate and trust his subordinates since becoming the Barasi of Praxus. To teek his pride when he'd given up control was a very potent sign of a strong temple and balanced Barasi. Something that was not a sure thing, given Prowl's often obsessive nature to control and put in order.

"Now that your youngest has been bonded, is Evenway beginning to pine for a little one again?" Prowl gave the Lord of Praxus a knowing smile.

"Not quite yet." Skysound responded with an equally knowing smile. "I think he is enjoying the free time for a while. I would give it less than two vorn before we are petitioning the Temple once more."

"That long?" Prowl quirked a small grin, then sobered. "He must be quite stressed by this bonding."

"A little." Skysound nodded. "We are in no hurry at the moment for another."

"Enjoy a little time to yourselves. You haven't been without a creation to raise in a long time," Prowl agreed with a sip of his sweet energon. "Has Quetzal begun to talk of a first creation yet?"

"Talk, yes. But we are not pushing them." Skysound said with a fond smile at the reference of his first creation and heir. "They are happy, and very involved in the city right now. Though that look in Windwisp's optics...I am hoping soon."

"It will be an orn of great celebration," Prowl purred. "One I look forward to greatly. It is always such a pleasure to bring a new spark into the world."

"And celebrate we shall." Skysound said as he rose from his seat. "Evenway just informed me that everyone is here. Shall we proceed to dinner?"

"Of course," Prowl set his mostly empty cube down and stood, offering his hand to Jazz.

The hand was accepted, Jazz leaning in to brush his forehelm lightly against Prowl's and his field brushing against his bonded's with trust and thanks. A spike of arousal answered the touch, mingling with approval and a sort of muted preening pleasure as Jazz settled on Prowl's arm for the walk to the family dinning room. For the palace it was an intimate space for close friends and family, suitable for no more than eight. From those present, it was exactly who Prowl had said would be there, making it a comfortable gathering of six, of which three Jazz was reasonably confident he could count in his, or at least Prowl's corner.

The mood was relaxed, with Honor and Lockcheck already seated next to each other and chatting on one longer side of the table when Prowl led Jazz into the room behind Skysound. Evenway quickly came to his bonded and walked with him to the far end of the table, where the Lord of Praxus sat, then moved to the other short side of the table to seat himself with the aid of a servant.

Jazz knew enough to make sure that Prowl was comfortably seated before settling himself next to his mate. The small flicker of relief at the arrangement evident in his field and not missed by Evenway, who offered him a small smile of welcome.

Once everyone was seated Skysound nodded to them all. "Thank you for joining my mate and I this evening. Barasi Prowl, would you be willing to offer Primus' blessing on the energon?"

"Of course," Prowl trilled in genuine pleasure at the invitation, no matter how customary it was. He stood smoothly and reached for an almost spherical drinking vessel set on the table and accepted a pitcher of nearly white energon from a servant. "The first of our kind took nourishment directly from Primus, the energon pooling on the surface for them to gather," he recited the simplest version of the story with an open field cast wide for them all to teek his belief and joy in telling easily. "As we grew in number, he sent us sparks that learned how to harvest energon from other sources, preserving our creator's fuel for nourishing the world we live on," he continued as he poured a small amount of the white energon into the spherical cube. "In time, most forgot that energon, it its purest form, is the life energy of our lifegiver, that which sustains the spark of Cybertron itself and the physical frame of Primus. Let no one forget that we come from Primus, live on Primus, took our first nourishment from Primus, and in time return to Primus."

Slowly Prowl walked around the table and offered the sphere to Honor, who took it and sipped very lightly as he returned to his seat. She then stood and offered it to Lockcheck. "Let no one forget that we come from Primus and return to Primus."

The Lord of Law accepted the sphere, took a sip as she sat, then stood to offer it to Evenway. "Let no one forget that we come from Primus and return to Primus."

Evenway took it with grace, helm tipping slightly as he took a small sip and repeated the words before offering it to Jazz.

How his hands were steady as he took the crystal vessel Jazz didn't know, but the energon barely rippled as he accepted. The energon was rich, warm and energizing at the same time on his glossa, distracting enough that he had to think about the words as he stood and carried it to where Skysound was seated at the head of the table. "Let no one forget that we come from Primus and return to Primus."

The words, the ritual, they were all odd and foreign to him. But as the sphere passed from his hands his spark felt warm and right. Here, the words were not lip service. Here the rich and powerful, while not giving up their wealth or power, believed and seemed to act on it. And ... it felt _good_.

Jazz sat and watched as Skysound sipped, then stood and walked to Prowl.

"Let no one forget that we come from Primus and return to Primus," the Lord of Praxus said with all honesty and intent to the Barasi of Praxus.

Prowl accepted the still mostly full rounded cube from Lord Skysound and carefully poured the remainder into the half-full container it had come from. "Energon, when used as needed, is an endless supply, as is the love of our creator. Primus ensures that his creations are never without. It is our duty to ensure that bounty is not lost and his creations do not extinguish for lack of what we have in plenty."

When Prowl finished pouring he placed the mostly-full carafe on the tray it had been delivered in for the servant to take away. He sat and swept his gaze around the table. "Enjoy, indulge, and share when you are no longer in need. It is the will of Primus, as it is from every creator to their creations. We give thanks to the bounty and wisdom that has allowed this city to prosper."

"Comecro." The table hummed in unison.

Jazz's field reached out to brush lightly against Prowl's as his bonded rejoined him at the table, full of warmth and a slowly growing peace as servants smoothly arranged the actual meal on the table. Prowl's field replied by meshing and caressing back with peaceful affection.

Glowing carafes of energon were spaced along the length, alternating with small platters of energon solids and confections. He waited until Skysound reached for a pitcher and poured some energon before addressing Prowl. "What would you like?"

Gentle affection-acceptance caressed him in reply. "A cube of energon."

Jazz nodded smoothly and reached for the hydro energon he knew Prowl preferred. It was a simple matter to select the little additives that his mate liked from those that were laid out between the pitchers and carafes, seasoning the softly glowing energon to his mate's tastes. He offered the completed cube to Prowl, then turned and selected several solids and confections that Prowl had commented in the past went well with the energon mix, placing them near at hand for Prowl as well. Satisfied that Prowl was taken care of, Jazz turned his attention to the spread before them and what he was in the mood for that orn.

Solar. He always took the solar when he could get it. There was something about the lighter, warm consistency that he enjoyed more than other varieties. For a klik he considered the add-ins, before simply picking up a rust stick and adding it to the cube to dissolve slowly.

With the fuel sorted out he focused on what everyone else was having, quietly noting preferences for future reference should it be needed.

"Jazz, are you looking forward to the Lords Ball?" Lockcheck asked politely of the next major social event.

There was a soft vent, part amusement, from Jazz before he answered. "I am not sure that I am looking forward to it, but I'm not afraid. Yet."

"There is nothing to be afraid of," Honor promised with a teasing twitch of her sensor wings. "They are long and dull, unless you enjoy small talk and dancing with relative strangers."

"They won't be strangers for long," Prowl added. "Everyone invited are mecha I deal with at least several times a vorn."

"There are certainly worse things than small talk and dancing." Jazz smiled back at Honor. He had not forgotten his first friend here in Praxus, who was still an occasional lover. Though she was not much less busy than Prowl, her work kept different joors. "And if one knows enough, one can usually find _something_ interesting to talk about."

"Very true," she purred. "You know enough about crystals and crystal artists to carry on with almost anyone for many joors."

His attention shifted to Prowl. "What sort of mecha are normally invited?"

"Everyone rating the title of Lord within Praxus, those of equivalent political rank such as myself and Lockcheck, Living Treasures of Praxus and oligarchs, of which I do not believe you have met any yet," Prowl outlined them. "It is actually quite a diverse group."

"Also on the guest list would be their bondmates, and their creations that are of mechling age or older. The last are not necessarily expected to attend, and are invited as a courtesy." Evenway informed Jazz, expanding on Prowl's outline with those who had the status to attend, but not in their own right.

"How many will be there?" Jazz asked, suddenly curious.

"Three thousand, seven hundred and forty eight, currently," Evenway supplied smoothly.

"Is there a purpose behind in the ball?" Jazz wondered. In Kalis such a thing would have been a display of wealth and power, and the guest list would not have been nearly as extensive.

"To ensure that at least once a vorn, everyone of high status in the city is in one place to socialize, meet and greet and ensure that their idea of reality is a reasonable match to everyone else. A time for announcements, formal introductions to society and for unbonded mecha to meet each other. In reality, it's an excuse for a good time on a grand scale," Skysound chuckled.

"In the past it was sometimes used as a way air out grudges as well, but that tradition has largely fallen by the wayside." Evenway added as he reached for tray of energon confections, placing several brighter yellow ones on a plate.

"Yes, the time for duels," Lockcheck huffed. "I have no idea how my predecessors managed. State sanctioned murder." His sensor wings twitched in the distress he experienced at the concept.

"It is no more murder than the arenas," Prowl countered smoothly with the air of this being a long-standing debate between them.

"Those are _worse_ ," Lockcheck grumbled. "As is proven by the matches being outlawed here and every civilized city in the empire."

"They serve a good function," Prowl replied calmly. "The difficulty was in managing them and the mob mentality they generated."

"What good do they serve?" Jazz asked, curious as to his own mate's thinking. Both arenas and formal duels were still very common in Kalis. Duels were even considered civilized activity, when one followed the proper steps to initiate and carry one out.

"A percentage of all sparks called will be very aggressive and do not respond well to the normal social and legal pressures that typically keep mecha in check. While the majority are called to military frames where society and law are structured in a way they function well in, like white sparks, occasionally they come when a less aggressive spark is desirable. Properly managed, arenas provide a place for such beings to thrive in. Like the military, it allows them to honor their spark in a way that contributes to society rather than harms it," Prowl explained.

"It's that 'properly managed' part that's the trick," Lockcheck added. "Making sure mecha aren't coerced into it has never been managed. We've had far more success with a military recruitment program for those who are inherently violent and difficult to control by other means."

"How are the arenas viewed in Praxus?" Jazz asked, honestly curious. "In Kalis they are a very popular form of entertainment."

"In polite society, they are referred to as a military institution unsuitable for general viewing," Prowl explained. "In the general population you will hear far less charitable terms."

"Have you been to one?" Lockcheck asked, carefully neutral. "They've been illegal here outside the military for two generations."

Jazz shrugged a little. "I went to one, once. I didn't really enjoy myself, and saw no reason to go back."

He had been dragged there by several of his brothers on an outing. The loud cheering, the betting, the shed energon... he had politely refused to return every time they had asked him to go. If he was going to spend shanix he had decided he would rather do it at the tracks, and his reasoning they had accepted without too much fuss.

"I'm glad you will not miss it," Prowl said, his field expressing just how glad he really was, utterly relieved. "What of duels? Are they still common in Kalis?"

Very suddenly both the Lord of Praxus and his bonded were sharply focused, their sensor wings lifted in _shock-distress_ that was quickly creeping towards horror for Evenway.

"Common enough." Jazz said, looking around. "But to turn one down is not always dishonorable. And not necessarily something a subordinate mate would participate in. If one is brought against a subordinate mate it is often expected that that the dominate mate will be the one to answer.

Sensor wings lowered, relief evident.

"We will warn Papiltan when we speak next," Skysound settled himself a little more quickly than his mate. "How often are duels fatal?"

"Rarely." That much, at least, Jazz was able to tell them with confidence. "The point of the duel is to defeat your opponent, not deactivate them. I have never seen one that was to the death."

"What is expected of the subordinate mate of the defeated, or deactivated?" Evenway asked with carefully forced neutrality.

"Whatever was set out in the terms agreed to beforehand. Sometimes nothing." Jazz admitted.

"What is common?" Prowl asked out of genuine curiosity.

"Sometimes a formal apology. Usually the forfeit is monetary, or goods. On rare occasion other...services... are agreed upon." Jazz said thoughtfully, then focused on Skysound and Evenway. "Your creation should have nothing to fear in that department, for the simple fact that my sister tends to guard what is hers jealously. If he has other talents- say musical ones- a performance might be demanded."

The pair canted the wings in understanding. "He has several talents suitable for public performance or display that he has been well educated in," Evenway said with evident pride. "Most musical interments known in Praxus, dance, singing, debate, crystal sculpture, painting. He has always enjoyed learning new skills and excelling at them."

"Something that is largely expected for a Praxian royal, and those who would be bonded to one," Prowl added with mixed humor.

"So besides racing, what do you enjoy spending your time doing?" Lockcheck asked, giving Jazz an opening to show off if he wished to.

"Most recently, crystal growing." Jazz said, visor brightening. "Prowl has given me a corner of the workroom to use, and I have several starts that are coming along nicely."

"That is a delightful hobby," Evenway said with honest sweetness. "Have you joined any of the societies or clubs yet?"

"No. The temple gardeners have been very patient with me." Jazz said with a laugh. "Dealing with my questions and pointing me in the right direction. Do you have some recommendations?"

Evenway nodded, his field glowing at having found someone with a similar interest. "I shall get you a list, along with notations on what their focuses are. And you will have to see if you can convince your bonded to take you to the festival coming up."

"Of course I will," Prowl actually chuckled, his field flush with good humor. "I will even do my best to attend in an other than official presence."

"What festival?" Jazz asked, looking from his bonded to Evenway.

"The Crystal Festival." Evenway chuckled. "As though there could be anything else in Praxus. It is held once a vorn, and lasts three orns. There are displays of crystal art, vendors, competitions..."

"And Evenway is too modest to say that his at least one of his entries wins every festival." Skysound added. "Even when he enters them anonymously."

"It is only fair that the judges do not know they are mine until well after the fact," Evenway said primly.

"What categories are there for competition?" Jazz perked up even more, utterly delighted to have something in common with the royal bonded.

"There are categories for every type of crystal, and just about everything that you can do with one. There are also four levels; hobbyist, apprentice, crafter and master. Categories include the best raw crystal, best color, largest in size, most delicate, most flawless, best resonating, best natural shape, best artificial shape, best sculpture, the list is almost endless." Evenway said with a smile. "It's a miracle they can find enough judges every vorn. I think your bonded has even served as a judge on occasion."

"Have you?" Jazz looked to Prowl, curious and thoughtful.

"Yes, priests are always called on to judge several of the categories and we often judge many more as the fair organizers know we will accept as many requests as are needed. We rotate the duty among those with the knowledge needed to judge, though often one mech will judge several contests. I've judged Best in Show, best sculpture, best resonance, most flawless and most delicate, and am qualified to judge all categories," Prowl explained smoothly after sipping his energon.

 _That_ information was stored away for Jazz to grill his mate on some evening when they were sitting over energon. He had known that Prowl had an interest in crystals, but never realized that his bonded's knowledge ran quite so deep.

"Do you have specifics that you like to focus on?" Jazz asked Evenway as he took two more confections off a platter, placing one on his plate and one on Prowl's.

"I enjoy naturally shaping crystals. My personal favorites are color varieties though. Playing with seed crystals and seeing what rare colors and patterns I can coax from them." Evenway answered, indulging in a guilty pleasure of a personal conversation at the dinner table. "Have you found a favored subject yet?"

"Not yet. I'm still figuring out the basics. The ones with resonant properties seem to be a lot of fun though."

"And some of the most complex." Evenway comment with a shake of his helm. "Is that normal for him?" He asked, the question directed towards Prowl and full of good-natured humor.

"It seems to be," Prowl flicked a sensor wing in approval of the trait. "He also has the processor to learn quickly and well when he chooses to."

"Admirable qualities in any mecha." Evenway praised, make Jazz's field ripple with pleasure and embarrassment. From there the meal went much smoother for Jazz, whether he was the subject of conversation or not. Yet by the time they reached their quarters once more, he was mentally exhausted and quite ready to fall into the berth with his mate for a night of recharge.


	5. An Orn in the Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [FAQ: Priests of Primus](http://archiveofourown.org/works/974907/chapters/25845489) may be useful reading for those who don't get enough from the story.

A voice calling his designation began to rouse Jazz at a time he considered _entirely_ too early for anyone sane to be functional. With a moan he rolled over and stretched, visor glowing softly as he looked up at his fully awake bonded. "Time to get up already?" He asked, even though he knew the answer.

"Later, actually. I did not see a reason for you to get up just to watch me read the early newsfeeds, my messages and schedule," Prowl smiled slightly and reached down to stroke Jazz's cheek. "It is time for me to cleanse for dawn prayers."

Jazz leaned into the touch, field buzzing softly with affection. "I would have gotten up with you." He said softly, but the statement did nothing to counter the thanks that was evident for his mate's consideration. "Lead on."

Prowl nodded and offered Jazz a hand out of the berth before leading him into the main temple, then down ... and down, and _down_.

"Where are we going?" Jazz asked quietly, his hand in Prowl's as he looked around when the lift finally opened into a dimly glowing, _warm_ hallway.

"To the chamber for dawn prayers," Prowl answered simply as they walked, then realized that told his bonded very little. "This is the deepest point in Praxus other than the sparking chamber. The closest point to Primus. We gather for the first and last prayers of the orn as close to our creator as possible."

"Ah." That made sense to Jazz from a theological standpoint. Primus still meant little to him, as much as their deity was the center of his bonded's functioning. That his bonded recalled that he needed to know more than the average first-metacycle clericus made him feel good too. Which made him wonder. "How long since you have trained anyone as clueless as I am?"

"I do not train. That is left to those with the penchant for it," Prowl shook his helm with a light rustle of his sensor wings and guided Jazz into a simple square room of pure clear crystal and not a reflective surface to be found. It was unnervingly like their berthroom, but after a moment Jazz picked out a small pool of cleanser. It was barely large enough for Prowl to kneel sitting upright, but it seemed to be the only thing present.

Jazz stopped just inside the entrance, processing that and watching his mate at the same time. "So if I want to know more, it will mean another tutor?" He asked, tone carefully neutral.

"I will answer any questions as best I can. I know a great deal," Prowl carefully freed his hand as two srtisia of sarpresul rank entered. "However, I do not often think to explain if you do not ask. If you wish to know more and the archives cannot explain it well enough, then yes. I would suggest Honor, since you know her well."

The willingness to explain was enough for Jazz. He didn't need to know all the little details. It was Prowl's willingness to put in the effort that mattered to him. His field offered one last brush of affection before Prowl stepped away and Jazz was treated the strange and confusing sight of seeing his mate cared for.

"Dawn, Dusk," Prowl inclined his wings in a polite and rather warm greeting to the pair and was greeted with reverent deference in return. Without another sound exchanged, Prowl stepped into an open space and spread himself out, all six limbs angled to give easy access to the pair to wipe him down.

If he didn't know better it almost appeared as though Prowl was being worshiped, the mecha wiping him down with thorough care and reverence. It made him think back to the exact glyphs Prowl had used.

Cleansing.

Prowl wasn't just being physically cleaned. The old glyph held its original meaning when Prowl said it like he had. The Barasi of Praxus was having all the traces of the mundane and whatever wasn't 'clean' in a spiritual sense removed from him by two specialists.

They even cleaned his interfacing hardware.

How weird to have a spike touched and stroked like that and not respond. Prowl definitely responded when Jazz touched him. Even when the mech was too tired to interface there was a _response_ there.

The entirely different processor set, and Jazz was sure that was what it had to be, was almost distressing to Jazz as he watched. Fortunately that bit was over with as quickly as it should have been if it was any other plating. His sensor wings, chest and helm on the other hand, received a _lot_ of care and careful attention, and none of it was arousing to Prowl.

Eventually the wiping was dealt with and Prowl accepted Dawn's guidance to the small, deep pool, where he slowly knelt, every motion watched by the pair as he sank down until even his chevron tips and top wing joints were covered. He only remained down for a klik, then the pool drained and he stood to have more liquid poured over him by hand with large ladles.

That done, and by what they were judging Jazz had no clue, Prowl stepped out of the empty pool basin and was dried as thoroughly as he'd been wiped down. The entire process could not have taken more than a few breems, but it was so smooth and practiced that it held Jazz's entire focus, and slowly sank in that Prowl did this every orn.

Cleansed and dry, Prowl bowed his wings to Dawn and Dusk and was bowed to in return before they all left through an door on the far side from where Jazz and Prowl had entered. Prowl gave a quick glance towards Jazz to ensure he was following.

"Not allowed to touch you now?" Jazz guessed as he jogged over to his mate, optics sweeping over the sleek frame and noting how perfectly clean it was. Not a speck or smudge marred the soft shine of Prowl's frame.

"Not until after dawn prayers," Prowl confirmed. "I will be cleansed again if need be before any other duties. Being touched is not the only reason for it."

"What other reasons?" Jazz asked, confused. "And why again?"

"Primarily I am cleansed after sending a spark to Primus. It is intimate and distressing. While I can perform simple duties afterwards, I must be completely myself and centered before prayers, summoning or returning a spark." Prowl tried to explain something that he'd honestly never thought much about.

That left Jazz to think quietly to himself as they walked, putting the ritual in a different light, and equating it more with meditation in his processor. It was the closest thing he had to understanding the idea and process of centering one's self. He was deep enough in thought he wasn't even sure when Dawn and Dusk had left them.

Prowl paused before an ornate door that actually had a handle and hinges and looked at Jazz. "Do you wish to participate, or observe this time?"

"If observation is allowed, that might be a good idea." Jazz answered, snapping back to the moment. He wasn't entirely sure what was going on, and he wasn't about to potentially embarrass Prowl screwing up if he could watch once or twice first and try to figure it out.

"Of course. It would be best to stand in the back with the newest clericus near the Archipresul," Prowl explained. "If you wait here a moment, Clearsight will show you the way and explain if you have any questions during the prayers."

Jazz nodded and stood obediently where Prowl had indicated. It was only a klik before the Archipresul arrived, his field less guarded than Jazz had teeked on his arrival a decaorn and a half ago. "Clearsight." Jazz greeted his guide softly with a respectful nod of his head.

Without question he followed the high-ranking priest, one of six in Praxus of the rank directly below the Barasi. They walked quite a ways in what Jazz eventually picked out was half a square to the other side of what turned out to be a very large room with a high, rounded ceiling. Like all the special spaces Jazz had encountered, they made an effort with clear crystal and a spherical effect.

The set-up was simple, a slightly raised dais for Prowl was at the front, so all could see and hear him, and not to actually elevate Prowl above them in any way. It was weird to Jazz, but he was starting to get used to it in context of Praxus and its priests. Jazz also found he was among the first to arrive. There were a handful of other mecha, all very, very new initiate priests there when he was guided to the stand near the main entrance with them. Some were nervous, some had settled, but all of them were plain priest red with a single sensor wing panel and no markings that Jazz could spot.

"Thank you." He said once they stopped. "Prowl said you might be willing to explain things as they happen to me?"

"Of course," the elder mech canted his wings in agreement and pinged Jazz the ultra short range comm frequency being used to talk to the young clericus without making noise. ::Yours and theirs.::

There was a moment of greater stillness as the more experienced clericuses began to file in and fill out the front rows.

::You have become one of the teachers that Prowl mentioned?:: Jazz asked, looking around at the other mecha joining them.

::No. I am an Archipresul. Akiani such as Honor and Crest are the teachers.::

Jazz nodded a little, watching as the room continued to fill from the lowest ranks to the highest mostly in order. ::Does everyone at the temple attend all the prayer sessions during the orn?::

::All priests do unless they are attending something more important, such as summoning or returning a spark. The civilian workers and visitors rarely do.::

::How long does it usually last?::

::Half a joor between when these new clericuses are brought in and when the chamber is empty. The service and announcements are generally two groons.:: Clearsight answered easily, watching as the Sarpresul filed in.

Not terribly long as things went, though Jazz was starting to wonder how one went through this six times an orn and stayed sane and functioning as he watched the next ranking mecha enter the large chamber. It wasn't long before the remaining few, the other five Archipresul, joined them in the back and Jazz had a good look at the order of the place. Prowl was in front, the majority of the clericuses, the initiates to the Order, were up front where they had the best view of their leader. From there it seemed that rank and seniority put you further away from Prowl except for this little group that seemed to still be learning how to behave.

It went against every idea of order Jazz knew. In Kalis the more important one was, the closer one would to be to the source of power. In this place, Prowl was the main power, and to Jazz's old schooling, the mecha of rank near him should have been tripping all over themselves and each other to be close to Prowl. Those watching Prowl with a sort of almost wonder in the front should be standing silently here in the back and thankful that they were being given the gift of being in the same room as such a powerful mecha.

Instead, those that had the most to learn from the prayers and sermons were up front where they would hear and see best, while those who knew this by spark were further away. It made sense, in a warped kind of way that Jazz was starting to pick up on. Value the new, the weak, the abandoned and damaged. Support them, teach them, make them into an aid to society rather than a drain.

It was an utterly bizarre concept, yet even in his short time here Jazz had seen this powerful and wealthy institution give it far more than lip service. He had no doubt that Prowl lived by it.

_Remember, Record, Respect, Retell_

If this priesthood had been in Kalis, the city's royalty probably wouldn't have fallen. There never would have been an opening for his family to take over, to rule and to warp Kalis into the place that it was now. Jazz had no personal memories of _before_ , the dark place that he had come from held little resemblance to the few images that still remained there, and the many more that he had seen since coming here.

He listened attentively to two sermons, both given as short, simple stories with the moral stated clearly afterwards, tried to follow several songs and chanting in a language he didn't recognize, but found the cadence and harmonics soothing. With the last one he finally just gave up and listened, enjoying the way the sounds reached down to his very spark and absorbing far more of it than he had with the others.

He was waiting quietly, his attention almost as focused as that of the raw initiates around him, as the last notes faded. He'd long ago forget he could ask questions. As alien as this was to him, it was beautiful too. So many mecha in such perfect harmony was a rare thing in Kalis.

A small lift of sensor wings and all attention focused onto Prowl as he began the short but functional process of reading off the orn's non-routine events, the designations of the twenty-three sparks that had scheduled their time to depart and the creators of the twenty-eight new sparks that would be called that orn. With the business done, Prowl thanked them for their service and stepped down from the dais to leave through the door he'd entered from.

"That's it?" He asked as Prowl departed, not thinking as he spoke out loud.

It drew attention, mostly from the other almost-civilians around him. They had been watching the priests file out, the conversations slowly picking up as they discussed whatever they needed or wanted to with those around them.

"Yes. Dawn prayers have the least time spent on prayer and the most of the coming orn. The mid-orn prayer times are much more spiritual. Dusk prayers also cover some business, but not as much," Clearsight answered, holding still as the ranks in front of them cleared out in the orderly manner of long practice and little acceptance for rushing or rudeness.

The calmness helped Jazz as well, prompting him to wait patiently and assuring him without the need of words that if he could not find his mate on his own that someone would point him in the direction of Prowl before it was all over.

"This way." Clearsight finally said as the mecha in front of them moved in the direction of the entrance, the Archipresul offering to show Jazz the way back to his mate.

"Thanks. There are a lot of tunnels down here." And rather lost in thought as he had been when Clearsight had picked him at the beginning, he had not been paying near as much attention as he should have been to where they were going.

"Do you know where the Barasi's office is?" Clearsight asked as he led Jazz and the new clericuses towards the larger lifts to the main temple far above.

"No. I guess I never realized he even had an office." Jazz admitted as the mecha waited, quiet and orderly, for the next lift to arrive. The calm way that every one filed on, and those that would not fit stood back to wait for the next one, was noted and filed in Jazz's processor. There was no effort to squeeze in too many. There was no distress at not being on this lift. "I guess I should have expected that he would though. He just seems to do so much work wherever he is at the time, it seems like he just carries it with him." There was no hint of accusation or resentment in Jazz's voice, merely observation and thoughtfulness.

"He often does," Clearsight lifted his wings lightly in praise of the observation. "The duties of the Barasi are never completely done. Even if all one can do is skim the current news, check for deactivation notices and plan, there is always work to do."

The lift opened and they filed out, the new clericuses forming a loose group to one side and looking at Clearsight while others dispersed to their duties. The Archipresul looked at them. "Who knows the way to the classroom?"

Seven of nine sets of sensor wings lifted in confident confirmation.

"Those who know, ensure the others get there," he instructed calmly but firmly. "Your instructor for the orn will be there shortly."

The group twitched sensor wings in understanding and turned away as a group before Clearsight focused on Jazz once more. "This way. You were surprisingly quiet during the service."

"Er, thank you? Or do I need to apologize?" Jazz asked as fell in half a step behind Clearsight, following the other's lead while his field teeked of how clearly baffled he was by the comment.

"Neither," he chuckled lightly. "I was surprised. You are usually far more inquisitive. I know that you are not intimidated to ask me, as some of the clericuses are."

"I was...distracted." Jazz said, struggling to come up with a good term to explain what had kept him so focused and fascinated throughout the ritual. "I have never seen anything like that before. Nor have I felt anything like. The closest was maybe at the bonding ceremony."

His helm tilted to the side as he focused on Clearsight, wondering if the mecha could offer some explanation for what Jazz had just experienced, or if it was something that he was just going to have to keep doing until he understood for himself what was going on. The depth and simplicity he could grasp, the contradictory combination seeming to be a theme in Praxus. But the sensations that had reached to his spark had been a little disturbing.

"It is not uncommon to react that way if you have not been with a of group true believers during prayer," Clearsight suggested gently. "Most find that the sensation settles to a pleasant hum with exposure."

That seemed reasonable enough, since most things got easier with practice. "I'll probably have more questions then, as things go along. At least what I can't figure out for myself. Like do the lessons change often? Or had you heard the ones from this orn before?"

"I have heard, and delivered, almost all of them," Clearsight gave Jazz a knowing grin. "There are several thousand that are commonly used and every Barasi adds a few more. What is preached during a given prayer meeting is decided by the mecha giving it. It is often influenced by current events. If Prowl lasts as long as I expect and you continue to attend, you will know all the sermons long before he is ready to retire."

Jazz smiled in return, then asked about the part of the answer that had really grabbed his attention. "How long do you think Prowl will last? How long does a Barasi normally hold the position, I guess I should ask too."

"Most are exhausted by the duties within nine thousand vorns. I stepped down after eight. I would not be surprised if Prowl was still strong after twenty. He is extraordinarily well suited to the duties."

"So a very long time." Jazz summed up, having to agree with Clearsight's assessment of his bondmate. Jazz could tell when he was with Prowl that there were small things that his spark sometimes missed.

The joy and enjoyment he had felt from Prowl in the their single outing to the drive park had been a clear example. But overall Prowl seemed happy and fulfilled by his duties.

That thought sent Jazz processor off on another tangent, circling around the sudden idea that Prowl had no need of Jazz personally, and all of the implications of that. Everything that Jazz provided could be provided by someone else.

Had been provided by someone else until Jazz had come along.

Jazz needed Prowl. But Prowl had no _need_ of him.

His thoughts circled there for the remainder of the walk until Clearsight palmed an access pad by a door and Jazz realized it was labeled _Barasi Prowl_.

The office that Jazz stepped into made him smile just a little, it suited his bondmate so well. Large, clean, and tastefully furnished and decorated in a style that reminded him very much of the quarters they shared.

"Prowl." He greeted the Praxian seated at the desk softly.

Prowl looked up, his wings already flicking in a welcome greeting that was backed up with a small smile. "Jazz. What did you think of the service?"

"It was interesting." Jazz said, touching the back of a chair lightly and looking at his mate, seeking permission to be seated as the door closed behind him and left the two of them alone.

Prowl nodded. "Did it raise any questions for you?"

"Many." Jazz replied as he settled in the chair. "Clearsight was able to answer some, and I think the others might answer themselves, with time." He frowned a little, hand rubbing his armor over his spark. "It felt odd. Different."

"It touched your spark," Prowl brightened, an honest smile blooming across his features as his sensor wings spread in pleasure. "That is not a bad thing."

"How did it touch me?" Jazz asked, trying to understand and wondering if Prowl might actually have answers for him that would make any sense at all. He had known things were going to be different in Praxus from the moment he had been told of the bonding contract, but this was far outside of what even his vivid imagination had managed to concoct. "Clearsight said it was not unusual, and that the feeling would settle over time." Jazz added. "I assume the settling being dependent on my continued attendance."

"Yes, one becomes used to the sensations with exposure. It is not unlike interfacing in that way," Prowl tried to give Jazz a corollary he might understand. "The first few times an overload is strange, new, sometimes distressing. With experience it becomes only pleasure."

Prowl sat back in his chair and tried to think of a way to explain what had touched Jazz, because that came before the how. It wasn't a question he'd ever heard asked. He was reluctant to say it was Primus, for all that was the response most would give. Prowl remembered the sensation, and until he had experienced touching Primus when learning to extinguish a spark who's time had come he would have agreed. After touching Primus when summoning a spark he _knew_ what he'd felt was not their creator, for all it was very powerful.

After turning it over in his processors several time, he sighed softly. "I do not know."

An honest answer, and Jazz had to smile at that. Once more Prowl had lived by the advice he gave; it was better to admit to not knowing than to speak of what he did not know. It wasn't a common trait among those in power where holding the answers was often the way they kept power. "Thank you. Maybe it is something that I will find out for myself. Or not." The willingness to accept that he might not be given reasons for everything was something that had been drilled into him since he could recall, and resurfaced now easily.

"Some things are best discovered on one's own," Prowl smiled and relaxed a bit, relieved that his mate was not upset by the lack of an answer. "Did it bring anything else up for you?"

"Little questions I am still trying to work through so I can ask. I think Clearsight was surprised I did not ask more during the ritual itself." Jazz admitted. "Might have more after next time."

"There will be five more before we recharge. You will have plenty of opportunities to process the experience," Prowl said. "For now, I do need to ask you to entertain yourself for approximately half a joor. The Archipresul meeting may bring up issues that you are not yet authorized to listen to."

"I think I can manage that." Jazz said, rising from his seat and venturing around behind the desk to brush helms with his mate. "I'll head out to one of the gardens. Call me when I can come back?"

"I will," Prowl promised, a thrill weaving through his field at the touch of forehelms. "Enjoy the break."

* * *

Jazz was in the public garden of the temple, watching the caretakers tend to the crystal and helping with the simpler tasks of gathering the shavings and sorting the pruning when they would allow him. He knew half a joor wasn't long, and it wasn't even half a joor when Prowl pinged him that he was welcome to return to the Barasi's office. The trip back was much quicker, since Jazz had paid attention to the route by which he had left. Arriving at the door he touched the outside pad just as Clearsight had when the Archipresul had guided him there the first time.

It slid open, showing Prowl at his desk, reading and signing files. "The remainder of the joor is for reviewing reports and requests," he said with a light motion to select any chair Jazz wished. "It is as exciting as it sounds."

"And nothing I can do to make it better?" Jazz asked as he crossed the office and picked a larger chair this time, one that allowed him to sprawl comfortably and still see his bonded clearly.

Prowl paused, slightly surprised, and regarded the files he had before him. "Not this orn. If you wish, you may learn what is needed to judge whether it should be signed or not. That will be a process of many vorns, however. My aids are very good at presenting what I need to know in a quick to understand manner so I spend as little time as possible on this."

"Sounds like something I wouldn't have the patience to learn." Jazz commented, sounding truly apologetic about the fact. It sounded like far more sitting down and focusing than he cared to contemplate for too long, and just the thought was enough to make him twitch slightly.

"I do not expect so. Much of my orn is not so sedentary, though it will be very repetitive for you to watch," Prowl half apologized, his focus on his work as he signed another one and began reading the next. "Mornings are summoning new sparks. Afternoon is releasing them. Evening is a mixture of meetings and releasing sparks. If this orn is like most, there will be at least one emergency call to give the last rites to two or three mecha who are extinguishing early."

"You see to _all_ of them?" Jazz asked, trying to process that and wondering why at the same time. Surely there were others that could help.

"I personally summon all new sparks. I guide those to extinguish that do not request another," Prowl answered without looking up from the file he was reading.

"And you like doing this?" Jazz asked after Prowl had worked his way through several more files, signing off on all of them.

"I love summoning new sparks. Sending them back hurts, but it is part of the cycle and wrong to turn away from my duties there," Prowl spoke absently. "I enjoy leading prayers. Administration is simply required for city functioning. I am lucky to have very good assistants that allow me to indulge what I enjoy."

"And all the time that you took from your duties to care for me? Who saw to it all then?" Jazz was sure there was no way that everything had just stopped during Prowl's absence. Praxus was too large, too busy, to cease moving for the sake of one mech.

"The Archipresul divided my duties among them," Prowl didn't hide the gratitude for their actions. "They were all short on recharge for our sake."

"So what do they normally see too, if you take care of all of this?" Jazz asked, starting to get a feel for just how much had been turned on its helm just because of him.

"Politics, most high-level meetings, detailed finances, overseeing the training of priests of all levels, ensuring the temple's holdings remain in good repair, organize exhibits, train to take over as the Barasi if chosen or needed, combat training," Prowl paused, then shivered his wings in an expressive shrug. "I'm not sure there is anything they don't do, at least on occasion."

Jazz shook his helm in wonder and was quiet as Prowl continued to work, thinking and processing. "So what is next on the agenda?" He finally asked.

"Preparing to summon new sparks," Prowl's entire armor ruffled in eagerness. "Cleansing me, centering myself fully into the correct place, and preparing the chamber. There are twelve to call before a meeting with Archipresul Shimmerwing of Vos at joor 11."

"The same sort of cleansing? Will I be allowed to watch? What sort of sparks are you going to be calling?" Jazz asked, fascinated by something that drew so much pleasure from Prowl.

"Similar, and there is an extended period of meditation," Prowl said easily, still focused on his work. "This orn there is a minor noble and several specialist creators that have asked for a spark that would carry on their specialty. Most are normal summons, though. Creators who only ask for spark that will be happy and healthy."

"All sparkling summons? Does Praxus call sparks into full frames?" Questions flooding through Jazz's processor.

"Not often," Prowl murmured. "The price of doing so is rarely warranted in peacetime."

"So you were summoned as a sparkling?" Jazz asked, curious.

"No, I was called as part of a specialized search and rescue program funded by the Enforcers. While training would normally be used, they were testing the kind of upgrades that cannot be easily installed in a normal mecha. So a limited number of adult frames were authorized to be sparked to test the hardware. It will not be done again in peacetime."

"It did not go well?" Jazz asked, wondering at the answer and the tone of the response. "And if it needs to wait until later..." He was still not sure of what was pushing, where to push, and where to wait or not ask at all.

Prowl flicked his sensor wings in denial. "It did not go well at all. Of six called, three extinguished before their training was complete. The three that survived are severely glitched, one almost inexcusably so."

"You are one of the survivors?" It was unclear from the wording if Prowl counted himself among that number or not.

"Yes," Prowl nodded. "Three returned to the Well. Three are still in frames. One of those three really should not be, but he is not ready to surrender and the city will not order him put down despite being institutionalized."

"I'm sorry." Jazz murmured, not sure about how he felt about things like that any more. It was common to call mecha intended for simple labor or public serviced into mature, ready frames. But after being in Praxus, exposed to Prowl and different ways, it didn't seem right any more at all. "Does he have any chance at all for a real functioning?"

Prowl x-vented deeply. "In a very limited sense, yes, he could. It would involve a complete wipe of his processors, stripping him of all the hardware he was called to use and enough of his processors that he didn't immediately extinguish himself at the loss. He would never be more than a very simple processor capable of very simple tasks. His spark would know something was wrong, that much was missing, but never what. I am honestly not sure which fate is worse. I know what I would choose, but I am sane and self-aware enough to make a choice. He is not and has no hope of being so. Thankfully such experiments were always rare, and none have been authorized since I attained the rank of Archipresul."

"And what would you choose?" Jazz asked softly, rather sure that he already knew the answer to this question as well, but still wanting to hear what Prowl had to say.

"I would chose to return to the Well and Primus rather than exist in such a crippled frame," Prowl answered with calm and absolute certainty. "There is nothing I fear there. To be forced to remain in a crippled frame is a cruelty I do not believe I, or anyone, deserves to suffer."

"It still sounds like a difficult decision." Jazz said, looking up and noticing that the all of the datapads were now stacked neatly on the far side of Prowl's desk. "Are you done?"

"It is a very personal one," Prowl agreed as he stood and offered his arm to Jazz. "Watching Red Alert deteriorate over the vorns has been painful, and given me much to think about. I have remained stable largely because I have many mecha around me that protect me from my trigger. Not all glitched mecha are so lucky."

Jazz reached out, hand resting lightly on Prowl's arm and his field reaching out to brush lightly against the others. "Is there any chance that I will cause your glitch to activate?"

"There is always a chance, though it is unlikely. I'm sure you have noticed that I am logical and do not display emotions strongly. It is related to my intended function as the tactical organizer of the unit. My upgrade was a highly advanced tactical network and logic subsystems, along with the suppression of emotional protocols," Prowl explained. "My glitch involves dealing with input that I can not phrase in a logical manner. True randomness that I must deal with will shut me down."

"So surprises aren't necessarily a bad thing?" Jazz asked, sorting through that. "Just things that you can't apply any logic to at all?"

"Yes. I can handle surprises. I receive those more orns than not," Prowl's field flicked in amusement before they walked out of the office. "But something I can not even list under 'personal quirks' or 'results of damage' can create issues."

"I'm not sure I even want to know what sort of things those might be." Jazz admitted, walking easily along at his mate's side and looking for all the world like he belonged there. "Same chamber?" He asked when he noticed that they were heading down once more.

"For the cleansing, yes," Prowl twitched his sensor wings. "The meditation is in a room you will not be allowed in. The summoning you may observe from the observation room for those that the creators do not wish you to be present for."

"How long do you have to meditate?" Jazz asked, wondering if it would be worth digging the new file on crystal growing that one of the priests had pointed him to out to start on while he waited.

"Until I am done. Likely half a joor," Prowl said.

"I think I can wait that long." Jazz teased, his tone light and happy. "Is the cleansing the same too? If it is I'll just wait until you are done with the whole thing and ready to tell me what I need to do."

Prowl nodded. "If you wait outside, Clearsight will show you to the waiting room. The creators for the first group of newsparks are already there."

"Sounds like more fun than staring at a wall," Jazz offered Prowl a grin and waited outside the cleansing chamber. It wasn't long before Clearsight arrived and showed him to a well lit and comfortably furnished room. Seating to accommodate all frame types and sizes was scatted around the large space, half of it already occupied. A table held moderate refreshments- simple good quality energon and some solids for the mecha waiting there.

A place for those who had petitioned for and been granted the hope of a sparkling.

One couple merely looked his way and went back to talking between themselves, dismissive. Off to the side what looked like a triad and another couple were chatting happily, and as Jazz approached he could hear snippets of conversation.

"Our third- the first two were so different though! We aren't very specific when we ask for a spark, just one that we can love and raise." A dark Praxian with white highlights was saying.

"That is what we are going to ask for," the dominant mecha of the couple nodded in agreement. "I understand the need for asking for specific kinds of sparks, but I prefer to leave that to the institutions."

The smallest of the triad glanced at Jazz and smiled brilliantly. "What are you planning to ask for?"

"Just to be allowed to watch some." Jazz replied with a bright smile of his own, the excitement of the small group infectious. "Just bonded, and creations, of there are ever any, are very far away." He said and took the question as an invitation to join them, selecting a seat that was nearby enough for him to be easily included without crowding. 

"You are welcome to watch ours, as long as Barasi Prowl agrees," the dominant of the triad offered warmly. "It is a wonderful experience."

"We don't mind either," the pair agreed after a glance at each other. "It is the Barasi's final choice though."

"Of course," Jazz nodded. "What about the rest of you, what are you hoping for?" he asked curiously, wanting to get a feel for the two groups beyond what he'd overheard.

"We have been granted our third creation," the leader of the triad said warmly with evident pride in the fact. "Both of our older creations are well-adjusted, productive members of society."

"It is a real honor to be granted a third creation," the smallest one said. "The first one they look at you and your mates. After that, they look at who you raised. I am Flitter."

"Tango, and stuffy there is Quasar," the third member of the triad teased his leader. "Though being authorized for a third _is_ a real honor. It means that a lot of mecha think we did exceptionally well with the first two."

"Here in Praxus I would imagine so. Will you tell me of your other creations?" Jazz requested.

Flitter laughed, and launched into an animated description. "Fulcrum was so loud and rambunctious, building things to see how high he could make them, or just to see how much noise they would make when he knocked them over. He eventually took an interest in engineering, though it took him almost until his adult upgrade to settle on something!"

"Thank Primus he finally did." Tango added. "He works with the city structural engineers now, helping to maintain the physical infrastructure of Praxus."

"And the other?" Jazz inquired.

"Steno could hardly have been more different from his elder sibling." Quasar rumbled. "Passion for reading as soon as he understood what a glyph was. And quiet."

"It was a nice change." Tango agreed with a smile. "He found a position with the city record keepers just after his adult upgrades. Still funny that he is the one with a suitor courting already though."

"Oh, the quiet ones can be some of the most passionate," Jazz couldn't help his purr. "Definitely true with my bonded. You'd never know by talking to him how good it is. Though you might guess he's a good mech."

"That's important," one of the pair sitting nearby smiled. "A good mate will work things out instead of making a problem of it."

His mate hugged him a little tighter, a move that looked more like support than affection. "I'm Caster, my mate's Kurf."

"And what about you two? Your first?" Jazz asked.

"Yes," Caster grinned, his two-panel sensor wings fluttering in excitement. "We passed the personal evaluation decades ago. I was finally promotion so our income was sufficient for a sparkling two vorns ago."

"Any hopes?" Jazz asked gently, his smile encouraging.

"A strong, healthy spark," Caster said firmly. "One that suits the frame we had built and the home we can offer it."

"I'm hoping for one that has a gift that will make them happy," Kurf said shyly. "Something that might make its existence better."

"All good wishes from a creator as well." Jazz said with a smile, and silently wondered how his own functioning might have been different if his creator had wanted what was best for him, had actually loved him. It put a small twist in his spark, buried again as the conservation shifted to the construction of sparkling protoforms and what each had chosen, and what had been left to chance and the spark that would soon inhabit it. The way they kept emphasizing the honor of being allowed so many -- three -- had struck him as odd. His own siblings numbered in the double digits. But once again this was Praxus, not Kalis, and he had no doubt that they felt their words in their sparks.

Jazz noted when the snobbish couple was fetched by Clearsight, absently counted twelve kliks of chatting with the group and Clearsight came back. "Quasar, Tango, Flitter," he looked at the triad, who perked up sharply. "If you would come."

Jazz rose when they did, the invitation to watch he hoped still in effect. Quasar spoke quietly to Clearsight, his two-panel sensor wings angled low in extreme deference, and the Archipresul nodded.

"Jazz, if you would join us," Clearsight gave a slight cant of his longer, more finely crafted and elegant sensor wings before turning to lead them to a room, Jazz following along deferentially behind the petitioners and stopped just inside the door, well aware of the honor that he was being shown. The room they entered was a masterwork of engineering. It also fit the theme Jazz was catching onto that the rooms viewed as spiritual were modeled on a spark chamber. This one was a normal faceted crystal sphere with a transparent floor, but centered well above them was a huge burnished gold cube covered in constantly altering glyphs. Directly under it was an alter large enough for a minibot, but occupied with the glossy gray of a protoform without a spark in it.

The protoform caught Jazz's attention, but what he felt was nothing compared to the emotions radiating from the triad that fanned out in front of him who had commissioned it and were about to take the newly sparked being home with them. From how calm they were, the three clearly knew the steps of the ritual, and he had expected nothing less with the news that this was their third creation.

Clearsight bowed to his left, drawing Jazz's attention to the mech standing perfectly still there. Even before Jazz recognized his bonded, the triad bowed deeply, their helms down to expose the back of their helm, neck and their sensor wings spread and nearly parallel with the ground, then sank to their knees in ritual submission.

"Quasar, Tango, Flitter," Prowl's voice rumbled with a deep, rich resonance that he did not employ in normal speech. It cut right to Jazz's spark chamber and made it quiver in an effort to resonate with each tone Prowl generated, though it was never quite a match. "Do you vow before Primus that you are citizens of Praxus and are who you claim to be?"

Jazz noted the absolute lack of surprise or insult and guessed it had to be a ritual question. Something that wasn't asked as a question so much as a confirmation under oath.

"Before Primus I attest that I am Quasar of Praxus, second creation of Valiant and Timbre of Praxus and Nightshine of Iacon."

"Before Primus I attest that I am Tango of Praxus, first creation of Quickstep of Praxus and Highbeat of Polyhex."

"Before Primus I attest that I am Flitter of Praxus, fourth creation of Highwing, Torrent and Sweetsong of Praxus."

"Then stand and witness the sparking of your third creation," Prowl accepted their oath and guided the triad to stand outside the center circle before entering to stand behind the alter, facing the creators, and Jazz.

The black and white mech was captivated by the entire scene, his optics locked on his mate, noting every word spoken and every move made. There was no way that he could process it all in the moment, so instead he took it all in, to be reviewed at a later time in quiet.

Prowl lifted his arms and began to _sing_ in a language Jazz didn't know. Not just a dialect, but a full language, though Jazz was fairly sure it was the same one they sang in for prayers. The room came alive with spark energy, pure and warm, a match to Jazz's spark as it enveloped him in comfort, joy and _life_.

The distance between the huge cube above Prowl and the protoform began to close, and Prowl's voice cut through the room in modern Praxian. "Petitioners, speak of your wishes for this creation of Primus."

"We wish for a strong, healthy spark to raise and nurture." Quasar spoke first, his voice and frame steady despite everything that was happening around him.

"We wish for bright spark to guide and teach, a joy to his creators and his family." Tango followed, optics bright.

"We wish for a spark that will find happiness in whatever his spark calls him to do, and a place in this world with us." Flitter finished, the last of the triad visibly quivering in hope and anticipation.

The cube glowed more brightly, pulsing and Prowl began to sing again, and Jazz felt the lightest of tugs on his spark towards the cube and away from his frame. He pulled back, resisting the urge to look more closely at the pull. He knew that he needed to stay here, in his own frame. And he knew that he needed to shut himself off from anything that he might feel. This is was not to be his creation. This was a gift and a blessing for the eager triad before him.

Each of them was different, expressing their hopes and fears of a common goal. But in their differences he could see balance and perfection as well.

As they all watched, a glimmering orb of pale blue-green escaped the cube with an audible sound and flare of joy. It zoomed about the room, free for the moment in the energy to be only a spark in the physical world. Yet it could not resist Prowl's call to its frame for long and soon settled into the small protoform and bringing the brighter, softly metallic gleam of _life_ to a previously inanimate object.

Awe filled him, and for once Jazz was perfectly still. So was everyone else in the room, and through the quiet came the first, wondrous hum of new systems booting under their own power for the first time.

Prowl smiled, a warm, honest look of absolute joy in contentment and lifted the new life to face him. "Welcome to Praxus, Spry. Existence will be what you make of it."

The sparkling coo-trilled in reply before Prowl shifted to cradle it and walked to the triad.

"Strong, healthy and happy," Prowl told them as he handed the small being to Tango. "His gift of ultra-quick thought may be a great boon or a great burden. Teach him well how to use it, and direct his energy to functions that will challenge him."

The bright Praxian took the sparkling with ease, his field already reaching out in a warm blanket of welcome and wonder to wrap around the little frame. His triad crowded in on either side, their fields blending harmoniously with his to welcome their creation to functioning.

"We understand, Barasai. Our thanks for your help with our blessing from Primus." Quasar said, his sensor wings inclining to Prowl.

"It is my pleasure to welcome a new life to Praxus and gift it to a fine home," Prowl canted his wings lightly in reply. "Archipresul Brightsun will show you to the surface, answer any questions you may have and begin the filing to register your creation as a citizen."

He was offered another round of thanks as the triad departing, walking by Jazz and greeted warmly by the Archipresul waiting for them.

Jazz watched them pass with the same silence that he had observed the entire ceremony, his optics meeting just briefly with the newsparks and causing his own spark to jump in a very odd way.

When the door closed the small crash of a frame sinking to the floor drew his attention towards the alter and his mate's slumped form.

"Prowl?" Jazz asked, approaching and radiating concern. His mate had seemed fine only a moment ago, and Jazz knelt, opening a comm line to call for help.

"Just recovering," Prowl's voice was laced with static. "It is very draining to call a spark."

Jazz relaxed a little with the reassurance that all was well, or at least normal. "Is there anything I can do? Energon?"

Surely someone had to be coming to check on Prowl, but selfishly Jazz wanted to be the one to do all that he could for his mate.

"Already consumed," Prowl assured him, his voice beginning to steady. "I will be fine. A new spark in fifteen kliks. There are times I envy the Barasi of Praxus when the city was small and they could devote a joor or more to each."

"There needs to be two of you." Jazz said, his voice light and full of affection, but partly serious as he reached out a hand. "Can I touch?"

Prowl gave a negative twitch of both sensor wings and helm. "Not until I've finished summoning newsparks this morning. Soon I will have to surrender some duties of the Barasi to an Archipresul," he murmured, unhappy but calm as he stood, steadying himself against the alter. Before he could say more the door slid open and Archipresul Lifeline walked in with an unsparked sparkling frame in her arms.

"Barasi, Jazz," she inclined her helm to them, undisturbed by Prowl's unsteady state.

"Lifeline," Prowl canted his wings in greeting to her. "Have Caster and Kurf changed anything of their request?"

"No," she smiled as she set the empty protoform frame down on the alter. "Just happy, healthy and suited to the working class home it will be raised in."

Jazz fought the down the urge to touch once more and back away, taking up the same position that he had held when the first spark had been summoned. "They said I could watch as well."

"Then you may," Prowl agreed, his frame steadying by the nanoklik until he was strong and centered as before by the time Lifeline left. "I'm glad you have been allowed to watch," his field warmed and spread, enveloping the entire room as it entwined with the energy of the cube far above as he took his place to the left of the door. "This is the best part of my function."

Jazz shivered again as he was enveloped in the field as well, still trying to work out how it made him feel and the odd way it made his spark shiver. "I can see why." He whispered, falling silent as the door opened and the second set of bonded mecha he had been talking with in the waiting room entered.

Clearsight bowed to his left, prompting the couple to bow deeply, their helms down to expose the back of their helm, neck and their sensor wings spread and nearly parallel with the ground, then sank to their knees in ritual submission. It wasn't quite a smoothly done as the triad had, but they knew what they were supposed to do.

"Caster, Kurf," Prowl's voice rumbled with a deep, rich resonance that hadn't been there a moment before. As before it cut right to Jazz's spark chamber and made it quiver in an effort to resonate with each tone Prowl generated, though it was never quite a match. "Do you vow before Primus that you are citizens of Praxus and are who you claim to be?"

Even this new pair weren't surprised or made uneasy by the question.

"Before Primus I attest that I am Caster of Praxus, the creation of Wingnut and Wafer of Praxus."

"Before Primus I attest that I am Kurf of Praxus, first creation of Quickstep, Upstream and Fueldump of Praxus."

"Then stand and witness the sparking of your first creation," Prowl accepted their oath and guided the couple to stand outside the center circle before entering to stand behind the alter, facing the creators, and Jazz. Already it was easy for Jazz to pick out what would never change and what would for each ceremony.

Once more Prowl lifted his arms and began to sing in a language Jazz didn't know, but this time Jazz could pick out that it was the same glyphs as before. The room came alive with spark energy, pure and warm, a match to Jazz's spark as it enveloped him in comfort, joy and _life_. The distance between the huge cube above Prowl and the protoform began to close, and Prowl's voice cut through the room in modern Praxian. "Petitioners, speak of your wishes for this creation of Primus."

"A happy, healthy spark that we may guide a raise in the ways of Primus and Praxus." Caster replied with confidence.

"One that will find joy in its future functioning, and in our home and family." Kurf added. Their responses were not quite as smooth as the triad before them, but they were no less sincere or spark felt.

The cube glowed more brightly, pulsing and Prowl began to sing again, and Jazz felt the lightest of tugs on his spark towards the cube and away from his frame even as he recognized that while most glyphs Prowl sang were the same, not all of them were. He resisted the pull once more, and distantly wondered if it ever got easier, and how Prowl dealt with feeling this time and time again, orn after orn.

As they all watched, a glimmering orb of rich purple escaped the cube with an audible sound and flare of joy. It zoomed about the room, free for the moment in the energy to be only a spark in the physical world. Before anyone could do more than recognize it had emerged, it quivered, shivered, and began to pull apart into a red-purple and a blue-purple orb.

Jazz froze in wonder and shock, amazed at what he was witnesses. Then his attention was grabbed by the flare of despair that exploded from the pair before him as they witnessed the same thing. They'd gripped each other, staring at the splitting spark, their sensor wings quivering in distress.

Prowl had no time for them. By the time the two sparks had only a thin filament between them he had opened his chest plates and spark chamber, exposing the strong white orb pulsing and crackling there and began to sing in that ancient language, his arms spread and his attention on the frameless sparks.

The sparks continued to dance together before finally homing in on the offering and spiraling down to snuggle against the almost familiar warmth and comfort.

Jazz was so distracted by his mate, by the warmth and gentleness that Prowl had with the air of power and authority that he wielded, that he missed Lifeline's entrance with another sparkling frame, failing to noticed the Archipresul's presence until she had reached the alter and was between him and Prowl's open chest and visible spark.

She did not leave when she had set it down, but joined Prowl's soft humming as it rose to the end of the song of summoning. A step back, placing her equidistant to the alter as Prowl, and the song shifted once more. A coaxing tune to draw the two small sparks out from Prowl's chamber and into their own.

At first the pair seemed reluctant to leave the place of warmth and safety they had found, but finally they pulled away from the brilliant light of Prowl's spark. The final purple tendril between them faded as they settled into the separate frames, and once more Jazz was able to witness the slow spread of energy and life through a formerly empty shell.

Unlike the last time, this time the new creators were uneasy despite the strength they'd managed to draw from each other and the calmness of all in the room to the unexpected event.

Prowl smiled, a warm, honest look of absolute joy in contentment and lifted the new life to face him despite the extra strain of the summoning. "Welcome to Praxus, Shim." He set Shim down and picked up the other. "Welcome to Praxus, Fraction. Existence will be what you make of it."

The sparklings coo-trilled in reply before Prowl shifted to cradle Fraction while Lifeline picked up Shim and walked to the nervous couple.

"Do not worry over the expense. None of you will be punished for a gift of twins," Prowl's first statement went to the spark of the couple's fears. "The temple has a fund to assist those surprised by such events. Archipresul Lifeline will help you bond with them and arrange for the additional education pertinent to twins, as well as financial aid."

The fear and concern morphed into joy in a sparkbeat, and the pair reached for their new creations eagerly.

"Thank you, Barasai. Thank you." Kurf whispered, the sparkling held close to his own spark while his optics studied the one in his mate's arms and cradled against the other's spark. "We never expected, after trying so long...oh Primus."

"Strong, healthy and happy," Prowl told them as the new creators cradled their creations. "They are a strong pair, with a strong bond," he smiled warmly at the scene. "Your greatest challenge is likely in teaching them how to exist without their other half next to them while still embracing the gift that is a twin bond and their strength together. May their gift of attention to detail and quick adaptation serve them well."

"Come," Lifeline said gently, even more aware of Prowl's state than Jazz was. "I will ensure you and your creations are settled and all is set up before you leave."

Jazz watched the joyous family leave, and then all his attention was for his mate. He flinched as Prowl collapsed to the ground, and approached to drop to knees by the other.

"There is nothing I can do?" He asked again. "And please tell me you get a longer break this time."

Prowl nodded and leaned against Jazz, relief and utter spark-level exhaustion rippling through the contact as he clumsily worked to pull a cube of oddly colored medical energon from his subspace. "My orn is being rescheduled with the offer of allowing an Archipresul summoning the newsparks to those who should have one today. I will recharge in a chamber nearby once I can stand."

Jazz wrapped an arm around his mate in support and reached to help with the energon, extracting it gently from his mate's subspace and holding it up to Prowl's lips. "May I join you as you rest?"

Even if this was normal, it concerned Jazz to see Prowl like this. Part of him wondered if it was his own concern, or some missed residual coding. The though was pushed away until later as Prowl started to sip the energon, and Jazz didn't even bother tagging it.

If he managed to make it back to the thought at some point, great. If his memory dumped as unimportant before he did, he didn't care.

"I'd like that," Prowl murmured as he relaxed against his mate, accepted the help drinking without shame or concern and allowed his frame and spark to settle. It was only a few kliks before he roused enough to stand, though he was quite willing to lean on Jazz for support as he guided them to a small, energy-rich chamber that was little more than a berth suitable for three standard Praxian frames.

"How long are you going to be allowed to rest?" Jazz asked as helped Prowl to settle on the berth and then crawled on the berth and curled around him.

"Until I recover. A joor or two," Prowl let out a low vent of relaxing. "Then I am prepared again, and summon more."

"Rest well." Jazz murmured as he felt Prowl shutting down. He continued to stoke his mate's frame until he was sure Prowl was in recharge before falling into a light one himself.

* * *

A joor and a half later, Jazz was roused by his mate beginning to boot. Even before Jazz was fully aware he recognized how much more settled Prowl's field was. The strain of supporting three sparks, even briefly, had wrung him out, but now he felt normal.

"So strong." He purred softly in pride as he nuzzled against Prowl's neck.

"A Barasi must be," Prowl murmured, though his field caressed Jazz with affection and pleasure at his presence. "Your spark helped."

"Something I can do." There was a touch of relief there, a sense of _at last_ in Jazz's field as he rose with his mate. "Do you have to cleanse again?"

"Yes, though there is less to it this time as I am already centered," Prowl said as he stretched his frame, articulating every joint to its full extent and oblivious to just how appealing a display he was making of himself. "There is only one petitioner for the next request. It is a new military squadron."

"An entire squadron? How does that work? And why do you have to cleanse so often?" Jazz asked, questions rolling through his processor and off his glossa, all of his attention centered on the magnificent frame before him.

"Midstage youngling frames are designed to complement each other, called together asking for sparks that resonate well with each other and their function, raised and trained together. With their second mechling upgrades they will join the regular forces as a junior unit. By the time they have adult frames they will be well-integrated into our security forces," Prowl explain smoothly before shaking his sensor wings out and folding them into the resting posture. "Some of it is symbolic to show that I have left behind all physical obligations and exist as a vassal of Primus. But I am a physical being, with the limitations of one and anything that breaks the connection with perfection must be cleansed. Some is designed to assist me in performing my duties as well as possible. When dealing with sparks outside a frame it is very important for spark and processors to be fully focused and clear of distractions. If I bring other concerns with me, it may taint the call and bring a spark that will not be suited for its function."

Jazz just shook his helm, taking that all as he approached Prowl. "And you are on your way to prepare again?" He leaned in, his helm touching Prowl's in an expression of public affection. "Then I will wait. And assume that I am not allowed to watch this time."

"Likely not," Prowl purred into the touch, them tipped Jazz's face up for a light kiss. "Once I am done with this group, there are prayers, then breakfast, then another nap before I prepare to release several sparks to the Well."

"I would join you, as much as I am allowed. Your orn...I do not understand it. I am not sure that I will ever understand how you do this continually." Jazz admitted.

The descriptions he had been given of his bonded's life had been specific, but they had also been mere glyphs. Understanding them had been easy. Wrapping his processor around the reality he was starting to discover was his mate's ornly functioning was much harder.

"I know you may join in prayers. You would be most welcome there. Breakfast and rest you will also be welcome to join me. I will have to ask the mecha about to extinguish and possibly their kin if you may witness. It may not be the first one of the orn that is agreeable."

"I understand. I have things to do, if it is going to be a long time between things. The place where you send mecha back different from where you call sparks here?" Jazz asked, fingers joining with Prowl's as they moved to the exit.

"Yes, though it is down here as well. Calling a spark requires a direct connection to the Well of All Sparks. Sending one there does not. Any spark without a frame returns to Primus within a few kliks regardless of where they extinguished," Prowl explained smoothly, then paused to look at Jazz, his expression serious. "Have you witnessed the end of a life before?"

A small shiver passed through Jazz's frame, his field fluctuating as it was pulled in and released in rapid succession several time. "Never a peaceful end."

"Shu," Prowl crooned, his field extending to envelope Jazz in peace and calm. "For those who extinguish because they are ready, it is peaceful. Leaving your frame does not need to be a bad thing."

"If I am allowed to watch, then it will be very different from what I am used to." Jazz admitted, small bytes of memories flitting through his processor. The fear, the mangled frames. Some of them mecha he had even once cared for.

"If not this orn, I will continue to ask until someone is agreeable," Prowl promised softly before giving Jazz a light kiss on the forehelm and walking into the hallway. "Where will you be until you may join me again?"

"Out in the large public garden, unless there is some place else you would rather I wait." Jazz said. "Silversheen told me this morning that is where the gardening crew would be spending most of their orn. They are altering one of the walking paths to accommodate the growth of a larger crystal, and he usually lets me help."

"That will be fine," Prowl promised before motioning Jazz to follow a junior Lapresul to the surface. "I will comm you when someone agrees, or when it time for prayers."

"Right." Jazz agreed with a smile for his mate before nodding to the Lapresul to show that he was ready to follow.

* * *

It was mid-orn and Jazz was humming softly to himself as he worked on the path. He'd come and gone several times in the last fourteen joors for breakfast, two prayer sessions and a nap with Prowl. Sometimes with most of the workforce, other times by himself. When Prowl was busy with duties Jazz wasn't invited on, Jazz's task was raw beginners work - hand smoothing the section laid out for him by one of the more experienced mecha, making sure that it had the right grades in so that when they followed with the next layer of base everything would lay right. It was a vital task, demanding hard, dirty physical labor and attention to detail, but one that was easy enough to check for accuracy and redo if there was an error, so it was considered excellent training work.

While technically not a member of the temple priesthood or staff, as a permanent resident Jazz was given some liberties, and his willingness to learn and help was aiding him in making friends. Every orn he was reminded of what Honor had said early on. It had seemed strange, rather inconsequential then, but as he explored this place and its people he was internalizing their work ethic. Priests, both those with a white spark that were taken immediately and those with normal sparks that wanted to join, seemed partial to judging a mecha's worth by how hard they were willing to work at what needed doing. He was the mate of the High Priest of Praxus, arguably one of the most powerful mecha in the city given he had the Barasi's audial, yet not one of these priests thought anything of directing him to do menial labor when he asked to help.

That he did it without complaint and did it well earned him approving looks and even the occasional word of praise.

He was so focused on his task and the mecha working around him that he almost jumped when his comm went off. It wasn't Prowl, but a designation he didn't recognize, though it contained the sub-glyph of a presul.

::Jazz, if you would come to the lift down, I will show you to Barasi Prowl. A petitioner for grace has agreed to allow you to witness his end.::

::I'm coming.:: He answered automatically, then paused as he stood and something else occurred to him. ::I am a little dirty. Is that problem?::

::You should be presentable,:: the presul responded. ::Come down. I will help you clean up in a washrack.::

::On my way.:: Jazz answered promptly before turning to catch Silversheen's attention. "I need to go. Prowl called."

Silversheen nodded and motioned to one of the clericus to take over Jazz's task. He had been warned by Jazz when the Kalisite had arrived that he did not know how long he would be there, another reason for the choice of task assigned to him. "I understand. Thank you for your work, and we will be here for a while if you wish to return later. There is still much to do."

"Thank you for allowing me to help." Jazz said, performing a small bow that was all he had to offer as an equivalent to the formal wing cant of thanks. "I will, if I can."

Properly dismissed and with formalities taken care of, Jazz set off quickly down the path and through the temple to the lift that went deep under Praxus. A two-panel presul greeted him with a bow and motioned him to follow. It was quick work to make Jazz presentable with two sets of hands, and in less than a breem Jazz was left before a beautifully carved door that opened for him. The room beyond was lavish in a way that Prowl's own quarters were not, thick with padding, a berth nicely sized for the elder Praxian with muted colors and two sensor panels laying on it.

"Please sit," Prowl motioned to a chair, drawing Jazz's attention to the chairs that were currently empty. "This is Drydock. He has lived a long life and is ready to follow his bonded now that their youngest creation is established."

Jazz bowed respectfully to Prowl and the elder before taking the seat indicated, carefully quiet. Questions were already forming in his processor, but they would wait for later. Right now, his duty was to watch and be as unobtrusive as possible.

Prowl turned to face Drydock and sat on the edge of the berth, his hand over the elder's spark, his field steady, warm and deeply caring without a trace of grief at what was about to happen. "Thank you for allowing my mate to witness this part of my function."

"If my last kliks here can be a gift to another, then my functioning will be more complete." Drydock answered, his spark responding to the peace and warmth willingly, even hopefully.

Prowl smiled softly at the statement. "What may this servant of Primus offer you in your final moments to ease the transition from your frame?"

"Remembering my functioning as I pass to the Well." Drydock answered, his decision having been made long ago when he first submitted his request. "It has been a long one, and happy. I would smile as I go."

Prowl nodded and his field focused onto Drydock as and brushed his fingertipss over the primary dataport, coaxing the ill-used cover open with gentle fingers. Not a sound was made as they connected and Prowl took in the memory files tagged for final memories. ~Would you have them played in order?~ he asked softly over the hardline.

~No. No particular order.~ Drydock answered, optics going dim as he relaxed back on the berth. ~They are all good. Happy. My mate, my family. Creators. Creations. I would experience it once last time.~

~Then you will,~ Prowl promised as he activated protocols to create two completely independent connections. It was highly illegal outside of a few very carefully selected functions such as his own, but critical to giving a peaceful end this way. Memories played along one side while Prowl gently began taking control of the mech's frame in the other. Within half a breem Prowl had even the automatic functions and feedback under his control and he gradually brought them down, starving the spark of life support while its owner was kept carefully oblivious to the alerts and weakness.

The elder mecha on the berth slowly relaxed, his conscious processor lost in the joyful highlights of his functioning. 

The first time that he had laid optics on the mech that was to be his bonded.

The orn he had proposed, and Sparkcap had accepted.

Their bonding orn.

The sparking of their first creation.

Memories flowed together, his processor still functioning even as his frame was turning gray. Finally it too slowed and faded into stillness, but the only witness of this fact was the priest and the observer in the room, for the third spark was beyond knowing or caring as it returned to its creator. It had no care that the chest plates of its abandoned frame were commanded and powered enough to part, exposing the empty chamber.

Prowl remained in the connection until the last joule of energy faded, then carefully unplugged. The entire process took just over a breem and a half from when Prowl plugged in to when he disconnected.

Throughout the entire procedure Jazz had watched, silently taking it in as he seemed to be so much recently. It was as different as his bonded had promised, the peace and joy that Drydock was feeling down to the very nanklik that his spark was gone, evidenced by Jazz's own optics and Prowl's withdrawal.

"Gone." He murmured without thinking. But the word held thoughtfulness and a hint of wonder, with none of the fear and pain Jazz had associated with the idea before.

"This end is given to every citizen who requests it, and to anyone about to off-line in pain if one of us is close enough to know," Prowl's voice was soft, low, thoughtful in much the way Jazz's was, though for very different reasons. With a final gentle touch to the center of the mech's chevron, Prowl looked at his mate. "I will need to meditate after this, to process what he shared with me before I give another grace."

This time Jazz could understand the reason for needed to work through what had just happened, to come to terms with a spark gone no matter how peacefully. "I can go back to work in the gardens. You don't have to ask any more to let watch, if you don't want to."

Prowl walked up to his mate and brushed his calm and fingers along his cheek, only just not touching the metal skin. "That is for you to decide, Jazz. There will always be more sparks to call, and those to send back. It would please me to ask to indulge you whenever you wish to experience more. For now, enjoy your work, and find peace however you may. I have another nap beginning joor thirty-one. I would enjoy your presence, if you are not busy."

"Is the place from before your normal nap room too?" Jazz asked, using all of his self-control to not tilt his helm the last little bit for a real touch.

"Yes. You will join me?" Prowl asked as he brought his hand down, his field hopeful as well as slightly disjointed from taking in so many memories of another life.

"I'll be there." Jazz promised, then smiled. "I even remember where the washrack is, so I can leave early enough to clean up."

"Thank you," Prowl came a whisper's breath away from touching forehelms. "For today, you will still have an escort. Someone will be there to greet you." He straitened with a slight smile. "Soon it will be accepted you will not get lost and you may move about more freely."

"Better a guide than me wandering into some place that I shouldn't?" Jazz teased as he stepped back as well. "Be well, love."

"I will be." Prowl promised, almost reluctant, but motioned Jazz towards the door. "I meditate here, with the departed's frame."

His bonded nodded and let himself out, smiling at the lapresul that was waiting outside to guide him this time. "Is having to be walk me around punishment, or just part of your orn?" He asked, his tone one teasing as he tried to put his bonded out of his processor for a bit.

"Just part of my orn, Jazz," the mech smiled back at him, easy and relaxed around a mech that should outrank him by a considerable margin. "My primary duty is to guide mecha about the lower levels. With nearly two score of sparkings and almost as many graces given here every orn, there is usually someone to guide somewhere."

"All orn, every orn?" Jazz asked, just to continue the conversation as he was led upwards once more. He recognized the route, knowing that it would lead to the common upper levels where he could find his way back to the gardens easily.

"Many orns, yes," he answered smoothly. "We do rotate duties, but I enjoy showing the various mecha to their destinations and the tidbits of knowledge they share on the way so I am often granted this duty."

The rest of the trip was quiet, Jazz thanking his guide once he had been safely delivered to lift up to the main level. His walk to the largest public garden was also quiet, though he returned several greetings on the way. His processors were busy working through what he'd witnessed. Not just such a peaceful deactivation, but how intimate his mate was in the process ... and Prowl did that twenty times or more an orn? Even once seemed excessive to remain sane.

"Jazz, are you all right?" the familiar voice of Silversheen broke through his thoughts. "You've been staring blankly at this crystal for nearly four kliks."

With a start Jazz refocused on the crystal before him, a small sturdy one that had been selected for relocation, and that he had been given the honor of moving.

Hands dropping to his lap, Jazz nodded. "I think so. Still trying to understand what I saw, and how Prowl does it, I guess. Maybe I should leave, before I mess something up?"

He didn't want to go, but he had no right slowing down the work that was going on here, or even worse, damaging something because he was unable to focus on the task at hand.

"If you'd like to talk, I'm here," the lead gardener knelt next to Jazz with a smooth motion. "The crystal will survive. The work will be done."

"I don't understand how one can face that, sparks leaving, _sending_ sparks, even peacefully, and stay sane." Jazz murmured softly.

"There are protocols that help, but the majority of it comes down to the fact that very few can," Silversheen said simply. "For every non-military mecha that is capable of ending a life with minimal personal consequences, there are many thousands who can not. Most priests can deal with it by a combination of faith in Primus and the Well, mixed with a lifetime of training that teaches one's existence in a frame as no more than one phase of a much longer existence. Leaving a frame should be no more feared than upgrading to a mechling."

"Is that part of why many Barasai do not function long?" Jazz asked quietly, still focused on the effort it took from Prowl. That returning to the Well was a good thing, and returning to Primus, a being that was still very abstract to Jazz, could be a comfort, was still beyond his ability to process.

"Yes," he nodded. "Even for those who delegate much more than Prowl does it is a very demanding and draining position. The toll on spark, processor and frame are extensive. It is not something I could do, nor most priests."

"Why doesn't he delegate more?" It wasn't a question that Jazz was sure Silversheen might actually have an answer to, but it couldn't hurt to ask.

"He'd be the better one to ask, but I would hazard that he has never had a reason to," the mech shrugged his lovely red sensor wings, the exact same shade of everyone else's despite his designation. "The work was done, done well and no one more than usual complained."

"There are mecha who complain? About what?" Jazz asked, helm tilting curious as he looked up at Silversheen. The question was filed away, to be asked of Prowl later, if there was time.

"Anything and everything," the older mech chuckled. "Fees, what we teach, what we don't teach, that they couldn't get the appointment they wanted, they didn't pass a screening for something. Those would be the reasonable ones. Often mecha use priests to vent at, someone they can yell, scream and be utterly irrational towards who won't comm the Enforcers on them. It's not an official duty, but those who interact with the public much all know it's part of wearing the red. It's a tension release, and a valuable service to the population's overall processor health. Sometimes mecha will even listen to reason when they've calmed down."

Jazz vented softly and nodded in understanding. All of that much made more sense, more familiar to him than some of the other things that he had encountered here. "That makes sense, even if does not seem fair to all of you. Are there some more suited to such things as well?"

"Always," Silversheen nodded. "Just like regular mecha of every strata, class and caste, we have introverts and extroverts, those with tempers and those who just don't ruffle and everything in between. Priest training does tend to cool the temper and make any mecha more difficult to ruffle, much as age generally does, but training and protocols only go so far to change a basic nature."

"Then it's lucky for me that you either learned patience, or were patient to begin with." Jazz chuckled. "Thank you, for listening and answering." He added as his attention shifted back to the crystal waiting to be moved before them.

"The training teaches patience and calmness very well," Silversheen smiled slightly, then in mild worry. "Does this crystal mean something right now?"

"I don't think so." Jazz replied, actually started by the question. He glanced up at Silversheen, then back down at the small form.

It was a semi-opaque white, one that seemed to glow from within when the light struck it just right. "This one of the sturdy ones, right? Hardy and slow growing?" Jazz asked, tilting his helm to look at it from a different angle.

"Yes," Silversheen nodded. "A rare color for a class 9Ac crystal."

Sure that he would not hurt it, Jazz leaned out and touched it lightly with his fingertips. "A rare one all around then. Where are we moving it to? It'll be beautiful as it grows."

"It will be a centerpiece, replacing the one that was moved to Skydreamer's Park."

Jazz grinned, excited by the prospect and already imagining what the crystal would look like once it had grown into the focal point of the arrangement. The place that Silversheen was talking about was the center of the public Temple garden, surrounded by benches for mecha to sit, admire, and relax. The softly glowing crystal would add to the atmosphere perfectly.

"I'll get it moved into a transplant pot for one of the others to replant." Jazz said, already reaching for the basin that would serve as the crystal's temporary home.

"Take your time," Siversheen said smoothly as he rose, both a reminder to take care and that there was no hurry. "If you wish to talk, I am here," he offered before leaving.

Uprooting a crystal to transplant was a straightforward matter. A preset distance had already been marked around it, and Jazz's task was to follow the mark and dig a little deeper than the container he had been provided with.

Re-setting one, on the other hand, was a much more complex matter. Making sure that the crystal was set proper on top of all the supplement mineral chips to give it a boost, and then that it was packed in securely and with just the right firmness, was an art. One that Jazz had yet to be allowed to even attempt outside of the tiny ones he'd been allowed to gather for his quarters.

"It looks good," Smoothbore spoke his approval, his very field making Jazz relax. The senior gardener was specialized in transplanting crystals, and like many who spent their entire lives in service to the crystals, their very fields resonated with the natural neutrality that enveloped a healthy garden.

"Thank you." Jazz answered without pause in his work, each motion smooth and controlled. "I have had excellent and patient teachers."

There was no flattery behind the words, but rather the conviction that the speaker spoke truth.

"You have been a diligent student," Smoothbore responded in kind as Jazz finished. The senior gardener took the pot and walked off with it to begin the transplanting process.

* * *

Six joors later Jazz was pressed against his mate's back, grateful for a quiet joor with him while the priest recharged. He'd remained awake, thoughtful and interested to see how simply resting, Prowl was only in a light recharge, helped settled the mech so much. It was easy to teek that he'd been in desperate need of a break when he walked in the moment he'd let go of the tight control he normally maintained. The kiss Prowl had given him was light, chaste, more a greeting than a kiss, and Prowl was on the berth shutting down. This had left Jazz to settle himself as he would, and the most comfortable position he had found after Prowl was in recharge, with arms around his mate and his face tucked into the back of Prowl's neck.

Questions that he had he pushed aside until later, working on keeping his field and calm. Instead he worked through the plans for redoing the garden that Silversheen had shared with him, analyzing the way the changes would affect the atmosphere and overall layout.

He felt Prowl begin to move without booting up, a scramble to his pedes that was far less coordinated than the mech usually was. Only a fraction of his processors were on line and he was headed for the door.

Shoved to the side rather abruptly in the scramble, Jazz climbed to his pedes and followed after his bonded, field flaring with concern and confusion. "Prowl?"

His designation seemed to trigger a coded response because Prowl stopped and turned to face him. His face was blank, though his optics were on, and his sensor wings were twitching in agitation, though Jazz knew it wasn't emotional agitation.

Jazz reached out and grabbed the Praxian's arm as soon as he was close enough to touch, his field flaring to brush against Prowl's once more. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"Emergency call," Prowl responded, his voice still flat, though Jazz could teek that his higher functions were beginning to come on line. "I must go."

"Should I come too?" Jazz asked, releasing Prowl and following as the Praxian started moving once more. He didn't understand what Prowl was saying, or what was going on at all. The tidbits were not adding up to anything, but as Jazz continued to teek more of Prowl's awareness boot he hoped that he would have answers soon enough.

"You may," Prowl said as he reached the lift to the upper levels, sinking against the back wall as awareness began to truly filter in and the effects of the emergency boot with no emergency that exact nanoklik kicking in.

Jazz moved to the wall with him, slipping an arm around his mate to steady Prowl, and to be close since he didn't know what else to do in the moment. His field reached out to brush against the other mech, still teeking of concern and affection.

"There's been a bad accident. One mech is guttering, two more critical and we'll get there before the medics," Prowl summed up what was coming. "This will be giving last rites and possibly grace to a mech who is unlikely to be ready for them."

"Will I be able to help at all?" Jazz asked quietly, his field pulling back in. It wasn't something that he wanted to do. It wasn't something that he wanted to see. But, this was Prowl's orn. Something his mate did. He might not _want_ to see it, but Jazz felt like he needed to see it.

"Do you have any medical skills, even first aid?" Prowl asked, though his field answered 'yes' even as he asked.

"No." Jazz admitted, his field teeking of shame at the fact. "I can follow directions, but that's about it."

"No shame in not knowing," Prowl said firmly as the lift stopped and he bolted outside at full speed, transforming within two strides. ::You can comfort those in pain, help control the crowd, take directions. Sometimes comforting them is all one can do.::

::Just tell me what to do when we get there.:: Jazz said, only a half a step behind his mate. The guards that appeared to flank them seemingly out of nowhere was something that Jazz was finally starting to get used to.

He understood the need for their presence, even if he did still find it a little annoying to be shadowed everywhere outside of the temple grounds.

Prowl pinged him the location and best route, taking into account traffic and their alt modes as well as the roads. The drive was like nothing Jazz had been part of before. It was a race, really, but one against time and with far fewer rules. Faced with a traffic block that couldn't part for them Prowl seemed to think nothing of transforming and leaping over the alt modes in front of him.

Keeping up was a challenge, and for a moment Jazz forgot what they were racing towards. He was caught up in keeping in, following the red frame moving with grace and confidence before him. Prowl clearly had no issues breaking all sorts of traffic laws when on a mission. It was also the first time since they met that Prowl really felt like he wouldn't notice if Jazz fell behind.

Thankfully his mate was proving just as capable here in the real world as he was in the contained and artificial environments of the racetrack and the drive park. Sometimes he would mirror the Praxian's path, other times he would find something more suited to his own frame and abilities, but the location ping was proving to be a mere courtesy, since Jazz was rarely more than a few lengths behind, and never out of optic range.

He saw the smoke, flashing lights of at least two Enforcers and picked up the screams of pain well before they reached the scene.

The scene was the carnage that Prowl had warned him of, not expansive in the sense of area, but brutal in it's own small sphere. He watched as his mate went straight for a battered wreak of a frame, one that Jazz wasn't even sure could still be housing a living spark.

Looking around himself he finally worked up the courage to start approaching another mecha, this one almost in root form and slouched against a barrier. The frame was battered and torn, smoke still issuing from several points but clearly still functioning.

"What happened?" the damaged mech got out, thick with static and clicking in pain.

"I don't know." Jazz admitted as he knelt by the mech, looking him over and at a total loss as to what to do. "There was an accident." He explained, venting softly and controlling his field, filling it with as much calm as he could.

The mech just grunted. "Got 'hibs?"

"Not on me. Sorry." Jazz apologized. "What hurts? Besides everything?" It didn't appear that the mech was in any danger of deactivating right away, but Jazz could see no harm in keeping him talking.

"Right shoulder, wing," he mumbled, working to respond to Jazz even as his optics were locked on the scene behind Jazz where Prowl was kneeling next to the mangled mess of a mech still in alt mode. "Came outta nowhere, broadsided me."

"He is being taken care of." Jazz said quietly, sure that was the mech Prowl had mentioned was guttering, and wondered to himself how his mate had known such a thing.

"If I didn't have extra armor, I'd be fragged to," he murmured. "Never thought be grateful for it."

"Why the extra armor?" Jazz asked, curious and figuring that it was an innocent enough topic. A quick glance and he kept his back on the scene behind him where his mate was bent over the crumpled and graying frame. One of the Enforcers was with the third mech, and the other was doing crowd control. Sirens marked the approach of both more Enforcers and medics.

"Metalworker's assistant," he got that glyph out perfectly and with evident pride. "Heat protect. Need it."

"Impressive." Jazz praised, and meaning every nuance of the word. "Do you hope to be a master one orn?"

"Nah ... not that good," he whimpered softly as the atmosphere moved his crushed sensor wing. "Maybe ... a senior ... craftmech ... one orn."

"I have this," a hand went on Jazz's shoulder. "Thank you for keeping him conscious."

Jazz nodded in understanding to the boldly marked mech, offering the injured mech whose designation he realized he still didn't know a small smile and a final brush of his field. "Help is here."

With that he stood and backed away, giving the medic clear access and finally looking around for his mate again. Prowl was talking with the ranking Enforcer, a shift captain if Jazz read the markings right. They were both grim and serious, but neither seemed angry.

Uncertain if he was allowed in the conversation, but not sure what else to do with himself, Jazz drifted closer. His audios clearly picked out the word 'overcharged' as he drew nearer, offering a possible explanation for the mess all around.

The Enforcer saluted Prowl and the priest turned to his mate. "The other two will live. We were lucky this time."

"Why lucky?" Jazz asked, frame trembling slightly now that he was actually starting to process everything that had happened. His optics flickered to the gray frame and back to his mate, the sight not nearly as disturbing now. It was not the first accident he had seen, nor the first unintended deactivation.

"Only the one who caused the collation deactivated." His gaze flicked to the one Jazz had been speaking to, who was now in stasis and being loaded into the medic's alt. "The impact should have deactivated them both, if not more. Just a little more kinetic energy and they would have gone through the barrier and down any number of levels." Prowl motioned to the battered barrier at the edge of the road. "It is not unknown for such events to involve half a dozen or more with varying degrees of damage."

Jazz shuddered. "Not nearly as bad as it could have been." He looked at the frame again. "You were able to reach him in time?"

"Yes, his last moments were peaceful," Prowl nodded, his field that unnatural calm that Jazz was learning meant his mate was in need of time to process. "The injured are expected to survive. We may return to the temple now."

::And you'll get to finish resting? And sort through this?:: Jazz asked over a comm line, already folding smoothly into his alt mode.

::Yes. There are buffers built into the schedule. If need be the Archipresul will take a few things off my duties this orn,:: Prowl answered as he transformed smoothly and their guard joined them. ::Such events are entirely too common to not be taken into account. Only half the deactivations on a given orn are planned for the temple.::

::Only half? Are you expected to respond to the others? And how did you know?:: Jazz continued to question as he slipped in behind Prowl, practically riding his mates bumper but want to be close enough to teek Prowl's state.

::Most of the others deactivate in a hospital or their home under the care of a certified end of functioning caretaker. They are not my concern. This time was because I could reach the guttering mech soon enough. No one else trained to end them peacefully could.:: Prowl explained, calm but exhausted. ::I knew because I was commed when the dispatcher learned of the situation.::

The fact that it was not some sort of mystical, Primus given gift was strangely soothing to Jazz, and his field shifted more to warm concern for his mate. ::Clean up, fuel, meditate, recharge?:: Jazz asked, rattling off something of the pattern that he had noticed in Prowl's orn as his processor also shifted over to more practical things.

::Yes.:: Prowl's tone spoke of how much he was looking forward to all four. ::Was that the kind of deactivation you are more familiar with?::

::Somewhat. Unexpected, sudden...but at least not maliciously intentional.:: Jazz answered. ::Those- there was nothing peaceful about those.::

There was a long pause. ::Not maliciously intentional?::

::Executions.:: Jazz finally stated bluntly, and without even attempting to hide the shiver that passed through both frame and field. ::Some of them much kinder than others.::

Prowl was silent for another long klik, but his sickly roiling field spoke volumes. ::We try to make the few executions we have quick and clean,:: he eventually replied.

::Those were the kind ones, at home. A lot of what happened rested on the nature of the transgression, and what sort of mood my creator was in that orn.:: Jazz's tone had taken on the neutral cadence of one delivering facts in the most detached manner they could, trying to make them feel as impersonal as they sounded.

::The _laws_ do not govern it?:: Prowl managed not to sound as horrified as he really was.

::Outside of the House, yes, the laws had much more jurisdiction. Though even those...if one was to be made a public example of, the end was still often neither quick nor kind.:: Jazz explained.

::Such abuses are why civilized cities have laws that govern everyone.:: Prowl actually growled. ::You will encounter none of that here.::

::That is good to learn.:: Jazz murmured as they drew up to the temple, his own field starting to teek of the strain the orn was putting him under.

"You do not need to keep up with me the rest of the orn," Prowl offered as he transformed. "I had centuries to acclimate to the schedule of a priest."

"I should at least try. I'm not even doing any of the _hard_ work." Jazz said. With a sigh he approached and held out his hand. "Maybe we will both be better after a rest?" He suggested softly, field teeking of the need to be close to someone as he worked on processing a lot of information.

"I know I will," Prowl accepted Jazz's hand and led him deep into the temple where the lift down was. "You have far more to process than I do."

"Yeah. Might not be good for much for a bit. Working through stuff like this is not something I'm good at." Jazz admitted as the lift descended, and he felt for like he was only adding one failure to another as he tacked on shortcoming after shortcoming to an ever-growing list.

"The first few hundred close encounters with deactivation are never easy," Prowl said softly, his field reaching out for Jazz's. "It is natural to find the transition from one state of being to another disconcerting when you do not fully understand it."

"And you understand it?" Jazz asked as he moved closer to Prowl, holding his hand and accepting the comfort that was being offered.

"Well enough," Prowl nodded faintly. "Believing in Primus and the Well as strongly as I do helps a great deal as well. It is much easier to accept the end of a life in the frame when one is certain what comes afterwards is much better."

"I will try to keep that in mind." Jazz said as he walked beside his mate to the room where they recharged, looking forward to this small reprieve.

* * *

Jazz was quietly fetching the energon that he and Prowl shared each evening when they were finally alone in Barasi's quarters again. On autopilot he mixed Prowl's, that ratio firmly ingrained into his processor and leaving his active memory free to work on other things. Like still trying to comprehend what Prowl did each and every orn, and all of the questions that he had just from the single orn he had tried to keep up with mate and knowing that Prowl had worked many times harder than what Jazz had witnessed. So many sparkings and deactivations and meetings he hadn't been allowed to witness, joors of administration work that he could only watch Prowl work on, and _six_ times they went to prayers where Jazz only stood in the back and listened while Prowl held the entire temple population in his thrall.

"How do you do it, every orn, without going insane?" He asked quietly as he offered Prowl the prepared cube. Even the answers of training, the suggestions that Prowl's spark was well suited for it, the idea that Prowl enjoyed at least some of what he did- it was still not enough for Jazz to be able to grasp how his mate did it all.

"Balance, practice and a great deal of experience," Prowl answered as best he could. "It is not unlike how gladiators can kill so regularly and not go insane."

That idea made Jazz shudder a little as well before he settled on his favorite lounge, curled into a ball more than sprawled comfortable like he usually did. "Why do you take on so much? Why not have others do more?"

Prowl regarded his glowing drink for a long moment before focusing on Jazz. "Because I have not had reason to delegate more before. I do enjoy my duties for the most part."

"It just seems like it's so hard on you, such a struggle, for you to see to everything that you do." Jazz sighed. "You said something like my presence helped, when you were recharging and resting. Did it really? Why?"

Prowl cocked his helm, hashing and rehashing the statement before speaking. "I have always gotten enough recharge," he said cautiously. "I have time to spend on things other than my duties. Yes, your presence helped. I typically recharge with someone there. A living field helps me settle. Your field may not be as calm as an archipresul's, but you care for me."

"So there were others to perform the duty before me, and I am not as good as they are." Jazz summed up. There was no malice in his tone, just contemplation. And sadness in his next question. "I'm nothing but a burden to you, aren't I?"

"Jazz, you have been here less than a metacycle," Prowl reminded him patiently. "I also did not say they performed it better."

"You said they were calmer. If that is what you need that would make them better." Jazz replied, presenting the logic behind his statement and relaxing just a smidge on the lounge. "And how much of your world have I turned upside down in that decaorn? I'm supposed to be, well..." Jazz struggled for words, trying to sum what he wanted, what the imprints left on him from the coding still wanted, what he had been taught, instructed no matter how wrong it might seem to Prowl and the ways of Praxus.

"Yes, they are calmer, but you care for _me_ ," Prowl repeated with slightly different emphasis. "They care about helping the Barasi. You care about _Prowl_." With a soft sigh Prowl set his energon down and walked over to cup Jazz's cheek in one hand as he crouched to be optic level with him while his field unfurled to encompass his mate. "Jazz, settling in takes time. Learning an entirely new culture and function takes time. That you are trying so hard makes you anything but a burden."

The difference marked by the emphasis stuck, making sense and shifting Jazz's way of thinking just a little. Another small peek into the way that his bonded viewed the world. At the touch Jazz relaxed even more, his frame stretching out as his cheek pressed into the touch. "You approve. Thank you."

"Yes, I approve," Prowl reinforced the idea as he caressed Jazz's cheek with his thumb. "Has anyone here made you believe you are not trying hard enough?"

"No." Jazz relaxed even more, purring into the touch. "Everyone has been welcoming." He smiled up at Prowl. "Something else that I'm not used to as well. It's different, being treated as normal, or a close to it as things can possibly be." He shifted back on the lounge as well, not even close to moving enough to break the touch, but creating space for Prowl to join him if he wished. It was an invitation the Praxian was quite happy to take and snuggled up with Jazz, nuzzling him.

"Good," Prowl purred softly as his hand slid lightly along Jazz's chest. "You will acclimate and find your place, what makes _you_ happy. You are a good mecha. The rest will come in time."

The faith radiated from Prowl was warming, good in a way that was also new to Jazz. "Shall I continue to be there for your recharge times?" Jazz asked softly, his hand copying the same light motion down Prowl's chest curiously.

"I would enjoy that a great deal," he purred shamelessly and nuzzled a bit closer for a kiss that was decidedly not innocent while his fingers played along the center seam before drifting lower. "I do enjoy your company. I enjoy hearing about your orn as well. You bring a fresh perspective that can be useful."

"Then I will be there." Jazz promised. "Silversheen was very tolerant of my coming and going this orn. Hopefully that will remain the same."

He leaned in for another kiss, field singing at the praise.

"He will, and not just because the Barasi wishes him to," Prowl promised into another kiss. "He is _thrilled_ that you wish to learn and do not become fussy about your finish. Those who find an honest joy in working with crystals are always the best students. He's told me that you seem to truly enjoy the work."

"It's soothing. Fun. Fascinating." Jazz summed up. "There is always more, endless."

Which was probably the reason that Jazz was interested. He would willing admit that he became easily bored. It was one his short-comings. But with the Praxian crystals there seemed to be endless combinations and always something new to learn. And it was something that he could _do_ as well, an activity that worked both processor and frame together in a way that was especially satisfying to Jazz.

"That is true," Prowl trilled, genuinely delighted by Jazz's response, but also that Jazz had found something he enjoyed so much so quickly. "Is it a skill that is always expanding. No matter how good you are, there is more to learn and do. Some mecha find that frustrating. Not everyone is suited for the arts."

"Keeps me from getting bored." Jazz chuckled. "Bored always seemed to get me in trouble. I like new things."

"Trouble?" Prowl laughed into a playful trill as he shifted to lean more onto Jazz's lap for the next kiss, then one decidedly full of desire. "What kind of trouble could you possibly get into?"

Jazz added the change in position even more, rolling to his back so that Prowl was straddling his hips and Jazz's fingers were playing into the Praxian's hip joints. "All sorts." He answered with a smile of his own. "No, I don't know who put the glitch mouse in the favored bonded's meal plate. What do you mean the tire treads on the back of the compound wall look like they match mine? What order for six cases of Iconian high grade?"

Prowl laughed, his field flickering with amusement even as his engine purred with building arousal between kisses that were quickly becoming fervent and hands that moved back up to Jazz's chest, teasing his headlights. "I will endeavor to keep you entertained enough that such trouble does not infect this House."

Jazz arched, chest pressing into the touches with a moan of delight and pleasure. "So far you are doing a wonderful job. Too much to do here." The tone made it obvious that the statement was a good thing, and nothing of a complaint.

Prowl's mouth found Jazz's throat, sliding along cables while his hands continued to tease the seam of his chest. "May I kiss your spark?" Prowl's voice was low and hungry.

There was a soft sound of agreement, the clicks of latches giving way and the slid of armor parting. Layers folded back, thicker than one might thought for simple noble, until the first flickers of blue-green light reflected on Prowl's frame.

"Beautiful," Prowl whispered as he gazed on it, his field expressing no less awe and love for the spark before him than the most innocent and perfect of those he called or let go. "You are beautiful, Jazz."

"As many as you see, and you still mean it." Jazz mused, the green and blue light growing brighter as the chamber moved forward, offering more. Through the protective clear crystal the spark swirled, green and blue dancing in a reflection of the life that Jazz exhibited every orn.

Prowl smiled and leaned forward to kiss the iris ever so gently, causing his lips to tingle and the crystal to pick up a tiny charge from the contact. "Every spark is a piece of Primus. Every spark is _life_."

Jazz jumped and gasped, field flaring in pleasure and delight. "Do that again?" He asked, hopeful and quivering. Prowl lowered his helm again and ghosted a warm x-vent over the crystal before kissing it, slow and passionately. As he drew fractionally back his glossa snaked out to swirl around the iris.

The touches made Jazz keen and shiver, his fingers digging into Prowl's hips as his visor flickered. His field reached out to wrap around Prowl, the sense that this was almost a new pleasure clear in it, and iris spiraled open. Leaders dashed out from his spark to dance across Prowl's face, drawing a deep, need-filled groan from him.

"Merge?" Prowl glanced up, wanting the greater intimacy and pure pleasure that was coming a little closer to the home his spark still knew.

"Yes. Please." Jazz forced himself to settle with a struggle, his spark pulling back under control some. "If you want, yes please."

"If _we_ want." Prowl insisted even as he pulled himself further up to bring his chest even with Jazz's and parted his chest armor, bringing the large, brilliant and pure white spark forward and in range of Jazz's.

"I want." Jazz admitted, attention fixated on the brilliant light that almost drowned out his own spark as leaders reached for each other. The first contact dragged a moan from them both, the pleasure pure in a way no other kind was. Prowl pulsed energy into his spark, sending some of it down the tendrils and into Jazz.

The first touches of the spark against his own were full of desire, but shy at the same time. They were exploratory, quivering at the pulsing pleasure, but brushing lightly over the flaring white light in return.

Prowl gave him time to get used to it, to fully accept it, before moving closer so their coronas brushed and began to merge. A low moan issued from Jazz as their coronas touched for the first time, his spark rubbing softly against Prowl's, inviting and curious. Underneath the caution was a gentle playfulness, wanting to be let out and testing to see if it was welcome.

The warm white light and utterly stable sense of _self_ stroking the blue-green orb with deep affection for Jazz and a love that Prowl felt for all sparks, mixing and mingling easily with nothing hinting that there was anything but perfection in this touch.

The welcoming affection was all the invitation needed, the blue-green light opening itself completely as it danced and teased around Prowl's spark, inviting him deeper. Pure white accepted the invitation and opened up even further in return, offering to let Jazz touch and experience what it was to be _Prowl_ , or to remain on the surface and enjoy the pleasure already coursing through their frames.

Jazz continued to sink deeper, trusting in the welcome and the mecha that was supposed to be his mate in a way that he had not been willing to trust in a very long time.

~You feel good.~ A soft voice informed Prowl as the presence that went with it continued to touch and explore. It brushed along the control, and practically snuggled against the sense of peace and calm when it found those. They all came so naturally to Prowl, being from the spark, yet so did the care. Prowl _cared_ about those in his charge.

~As do you,~ Prowl purred and arched into the pleasure Jazz took from his spark's nature even as he reveled in the spirited _life_ and curiosity that was Jazz's core.

~Play?~ Jazz asked, energy pulsing into his spark and bursting softly against Prowl's, small flares with no set intensity or rhythm.

Prowl moaned softly in pleasure and returned the not-pattern, even if his were a pattern and they both knew it, it was a pattern that was so long it didn't feel like one. The spark against his gave an extra strong pulse, backed with joy that was starting to lose the sense of focus and conscious _Jazz_ behind it. The balance of pleasure-warmth-safe was something that Jazz was willing to fall into.

~You're perfect.~ Jazz whispered.

~You are _life_.~ Prowl replied with all the wonder and awe he felt at that truth as he embraced his lover and willingly, easily release his sense of self for the merge. ~So beautiful. So very beautiful.~

The letting go of self, easier for one mecha than the other, only allowed the merge to fall even deeper. Soon is was a place of joy and pleasure, with very little of individual or conscious thought left. Here time stood still for what was left of their awareness and the half that had been and would again be Jazz tasted just a bit of what it meant to be close enough to Primus to call a fragment from their creator to inhabit a frame. Then every bit of aware was gone, washed away in white pleasure that didn't drown him as much as it surrounded him from every side and held him warm and safe in the most perfect form of bliss he had ever experienced.

When he came to again it was with Prowl still sprawled over him. Both of their sparks were tucked safely away, his arms wrapped around the red winged frame to stabilize it. 

And in the perfect position for him to nuzzle his mate's neck as he purred in contentment.

Prowl nuzzled back, relaxed and content in much the same way as Jazz. "Such a beautiful spark."

Jazz laughed, the soft rich sound filling the room as he worked on straightening out both processor and frame control. "Berth?" He asked, making it question and suggestion.

"Berth," Prowl agreed, reluctant to move but getting his frame to move after a moment of effort. Jazz was at his side as soon as he rose, pressed against the others frame in a reluctance to be parted from the still warm afterglow of the merge. "Want me to get your energon?" He offered, the discarded cube still on the side table where Prowl had left it.

"It will be there in the morning," Prowl nuzzled him, just as reluctant for distance. "I want you here."

"I'd come back." There was a lightness still in Jazz's voice as he started to move, the shortest route to the berthroom and the soft berth beyond his goal. Prowl willingly moved with him, eager to settle and recharge with the now-familiar spark nearby.

"Especially if there is more of that in the future." Jazz said, running his hand down Prowl's chest once they were settled comfortably on the large berth. He continued to stroke along the armor seem, processor drifting back over the merge and stopping suddenly on a bit that jumped out at him. "What did you mean by 'life'?"

"Your spark is full of life, of wanting to live, experience, grow," Prowl purred, snuggling into the contact. "It feels very good to me."

"So that is a good thing?" Jazz asked, though the question was more musing to himself than an actual inquiry. Finally he leaned in to Prowl, nuzzling the others neck. "Thank you for giving me that chance."

"It is a good thing," Prowl nuzzled him. "It is my pleasure to give you the chance."

"You're perfect." Jazz murmured again, frame spreading on the berth as he relaxed and his visor dimmed in the first whispers of recharge, his field spreading out to include Prowl in its peaceful calm. He felt Prowl's field reply, welcoming and calm, as the Praxian willingly sank into recharge himself.


	6. Daycare

Morning prayers were over, and Jazz hummed softly to himself as he followed his current guide through the main level of the temple. This orn he was going to try something new, or at least new to him. With the renovations to the public gardens complete, there was a lull in the need for extra hands to work the crystals, and Silversheen had informed him that he would not be needed for a decaorn or so, until the plans for some changes in one of the meditation garden were complete.

So Jazz found himself on the way the temple run daycare. The facility operated around the orn, offering care for sparklings and younglings to families that otherwise couldn't afford it. It was also the place where young mecha that were wards of the temple resided. Help was always needed there, and it sounded interesting enough that when Prowl had voiced his approval of Jazz's intentions to volunteer his services Jazz had submitted his request that orn.

"Here we are. I shall return to get you three breems before the Barasi's scheduled recharge." Jazz's guide said, accepting the thanks Jazz offered with a nod before setting off to see to his other duties.

Reaching out, Jazz laid his hand on the sensor, feeling it scan his credentials before allowing the door to open, and admitting Jazz into a world of color and life.

The large room was filled with the small frames of sparklings and the much larger forms of their caregivers. In one corner a group was working together to build a fort out of large, lightweight blocks. Another group was gathered around a holoboard, occasionally chirping in excitement when the game flared or made a noise. What looked like story time occupied another section of the room, and there was still more activity that Jazz noted but his processor couldn't quite place.

With a smile and a soft laugh he looked around the mecha in charge of the organized chaos and guessed Sarpresul Skysign was the Praxian flight-frame walking towards him with a warm smile.

"Welcome to youth care, Jazz. I'm delighted to have you here," Skysign greeted him with all the warmth and affection normally directed at the young creations in his care. "Have you taken care of sparklings or younglings before?"

"Never sole charge, but I've helped. I was one of the few that seemed to not mind watching them when no one else was really available." Jazz admitted, gaze shifting between the playing sparklings and the mech speaking to him with smooth ease.

"You won't be on your own here either," Skysign motioned around the large room. "Do you have something you'd like to do with them?"

"Whatever needs done. What is going on now? What is a normal orn like?" Jazz asked as the pair started to circle the room.

"This is playtime. It will last for two more breems. Breakfast is next, then lessons, another playtime, lessons for the younglings or a nap for the sparklings, lunch, playtime, lessons, playtime, lessons for the younglings or a nap for the sparklings, dinner, playtime for three joors. Then we enter the night shift which is rather different as many of them are in recharge, but some are on the same schedule as their creators and have lessons."

Jazz nodded, taking the schedule easily. "Sounds reasonable. And it's not going to cause any problems if I come and go during the orn?"

"Not at all," Skysign assured him, his field brushing Jazz's to back up the statement. "I know when you are expecting to be away and have accounted for it. If you're needed other times, just make sure I know. I'm never more than a comm away if you don't see me."

"Which happens more often then one would suspect, I bet." Jazz said with a laugh that instantly attracted the attention of the several of the sparklings playing nearby.

Noticing the new mecha and teeking his field as being both warm and welcoming, they came running up to investigate, prompting Jazz to drop to a knee and more on their level.

"I hope you become a regular here," Skysign smiled warmly at the scene, his field full of approval. "During playtime it's a free for all. Despite what it looks like, our primary duty is to ensure that no one is bullied, damaged or excluded. This is a time for them to play and socialize as they wish, but only within the social laws."

"I understand. Are there any more rules I need to know before I begin, or will I learn most of them as I go along?" Jazz asked, tilting his helm so that one of curious sparklings could just touch a sensor horn.

"Don't give into begging for treats," Skysign chuckled, causing one of the sparklings to pout. "Most rules are common sense to adults," he added even as he pinged Jazz a full list, which was little more than a dozen entries long. "And all the little ones here today know them. They will see how much they can get away with, with you being a new face."

"Nothing." Jazz chuckled with a wink for Skysign. Then he stood and looked around at the sparklings still hanging off of his hands. "All right, I'm ready. Show me this game of yours."

Delighted with someone new to introduce to their game, the sparklings led Jazz away, all three of them chattering at the same time and the much larger mech somehow managing to follow it all.

* * *

It was still a joor before the normal end of his orn but a meeting had been canceled so instead of work Prowl listened to his Archipresuls and walked to the daycare to watch his mate.

Skysign met him at the entrance, surprised and pleased at the Barasi appearance. "Welcome Barasai. Is there something we can do for you?"

"A late meeting was canceled. I thought I might watch my bonded doing something he enjoys," Prowl responded easily.

With a smile the Sarpresal motioned Prowl further into the care center. "Can we keep him? He has been a delight to have here. And the sparklings adore him."

"You will have to work that out with Jazz and Silversheen," Prowl chuckled. "I am pleased he has found things of value he enjoys doing. The what I leave up to him."

"He chooses all of his ventures himself? Or have you pointed opportunities out to him?" Skysign inquired, curious about one of the newest residents of the temple and stopping beside a set of shelving unit that served as a half-height barrier in the room.

With a motion he pointed out Jazz. The black and white mecha was on the floor once more, in circle with half a dozen sparklings and apparently playing a sound memory game.

The first mecha would chose a note or two, then the sparkling to the right would repeat the notes and add more. This continued around until the first sparkling had to repeat the entire sequence.

When it was all over Jazz would take the notes and expand on them, often making the sparklings giggle in delight at his talent.

"So far he has discovered and pursued his interests without my involvement," Prowl smiled faintly at the scene. "He may be asking for ideas, but it is not of me."

"Has he mentioned wanting creations of his own?" Skysign asked softly, not sure how the question would be taken, but daring to ask. He had become rather fond of the mech that he had only really gotten to know this orn. "He is a natural with them, if he was telling the truth and he has not had that much experience with caring for them."

"Not to me, though Honor would have warned him that I do not have the time to be a creator, so he would have to raise it himself if he wanted any," Prowl spoke the simple truth of his rank.

The game ended again, breaking up as several of the sparklings jumped up to move on to something new. Jazz laughed and rose as well, stretching his frame to its full length, arms over his helm. With a strong ex-vent he dropped back to normal, turning to ask Skysign a question and freezing for a nanoklik at the sight of his bonded's presence.

"Did I do something wrong?" He asked, clearly concerned.

"Not at all," Prowl was quick to reassure him. "A late meeting canceled. I thought we could spend the time together."

Jazz visor flared in delight at the suggestion, and then switched to hopeful pleading look that would have rivaled any that the sparklings in the care center could have produced. "Can I go?" He asked Skysign.

The priest laughed in good humor. "You are free to go as you please, Jazz. It was good to have you here. I hope you come by again."

"Thank you." Jazz trilled as he skipped to Prowl's side. There was no effort in movement or his field to try and hide his joy in the change of plans for the orn.

"What are we doing?" He asked Prowl, his hand brushing questioning for permission to hold against the Barasi's.

"I thought we could go to the race track, unless you'd rather relax in our quarters or one of the gardens," Prowl offered as his field caressed Jazz's affectionately but with a solid statement that he was still in public mode.

"Do you have energy to burn?" Jazz asked, taking Prowl's hand subtly in his own as they walked towards the exit. Behind them Skysign stepped in to settle the beginnings of a dispute, the work never done around sparklings.

"I have the energy to burn," Prowl managed not to purr, but his field gave no mistake that he was eager to _move_. He even caressed Jazz's hand with his thumb, quite possibly the most PDA he'd given on his own.

"Then to the track we should go." Jazz said agreeable, his field glowing at the subtle display of affection. "Though I won't object to you saving a little of the energy for after we are alone tonight."

"I will endeavor to save enough for you," Prowl chuckled lightly as they walked into the temple's open spaces. "The sparklings did not wear you out?"

"They tried. You will have the advantage tonight." Jazz informed him. "Though I have yet to find a disadvantage in losing to you in any way."

"You have yet to find out what happens when I lose soundly," Prowl teased him.

Curiosity and anticipation of discovering what the results of that might be pushed at Prowl through close fields before Jazz let go of his bonded's hand and transformed. ::Maybe I will try to find some extra tonight then.::

::Racing is enjoyable either way,:: Prowl purred as he transformed and smoothly drove out, their honor guard falling in around them with smooth practice. ::As is when we get back.::

* * *

Flush with satisfaction Jazz crossed the finish line, transforming with a flare and turning to smile triumphantly at his bonded. "Two out of three. I win."

"Indeed," Prowl rumbled, a deep vibration of his engine that was not settling. His field was flush with arousal, a drive to _catch_ , but also with pride and pleasure. "You are an excellent racer," his white optics remained a bit too bright as he motioned Jazz to follow him inside, intense in a way Jazz hadn't seen before.

"It's nice to have some real competition." Jazz purred, bouncing along behind Prowl and daring to reach out and run a hand down one of the sensor wings waving so temptingly in front of him. "Here, and in private."

Prowl's vents caught sharply at the touch and the sensor wing trembled as it pressed into it. Touching there was no mistaking Prowl's intent as they moved into the quieter inner areas. The Praxian wanted to frag his mate, and badly.

Jazz laughed, his field flaring out to tease at Prowl. It flickered out, brushing against Prowl's and alternating between invitation and daring Prowl to make good on that desire.

"Here? You? Or are you going to try and _wait_?"

"Not here, in _here_ ," Prowl said as he slapped a doorpad, opening an unmarked door to a nondescript room overlooking the track and pulled Jazz in. "No one gets to watch, but I do get to have you," he growled and pulled his mate against him for a fierce kiss that expressed the full intensity of what _chasing_ did to him.

The mech in his arms melted into the kiss, arms wrapping around Prowl and molding their frames together. Jazz's glossa slipped out, teasing and challenging even more. The spirit and desire fanned the flames in Prowl and he groaned, grinding against his mate in his need before pinning Jazz against the wall. The sound of a spike cover sliding open was distinct even over their racing engines and rubbing frames.

"Mine." Prowl growled as he broke the kiss to slide his denta along Jazz's throat.

"Are you claiming me?" Jazz growled softly, hand lifting to catch Prowl's face and guide it so that Jazz could kiss the chevron shield marked with his designation.

"Yes," Prowl rumbled, pressing into the touch that sent such delightful little flares into his neural net. "I'll share, but you are mine."

" _Yours_ ," Jazz answered, cradling Prowl's helm to kiss the center again as his valve cover slid away. One leg slid around his mate's hips, frame rubbing in invitation. 

It was all it took for Prowl to drive into the slick space, groaning with a shudder as he was enveloped by slick, tight heat. He felt every caliper and sensor cluster as he rubbed past them, every tiny motion sending a jolt of pleasure into already heavily charged systems.

"Yes." Jazz moaned, valve squeezing down around his mate's spike, sharing the pleasure and quivering as energy started to dance over his frame. If this was his reward for winning he would have to try his hardest more often. "Like being yours, so much."

Prowl trembled at the words, his field roaring with emotions as his spike came to a stop as deep inside his mate as their frames allowed. For a moment he held still, holding and being held, then his hands went to Jazz's hips to support him as he drew back, his vents panting slightly at how wound up he already was.

Jazz shivered at the loss when Prowl pulled back, and he squirmed a little in the strong hold. "Take." He offered, making it clear with his field that it was a request backed fully by his own desire.

With a deep groan Prowl drove forward, spreading the welcoming valve wide all the way to the end in a single motion. Thanks, lust, deep-set need and desire unfurled in Prowl's field as he indulged himself in a way he very rarely dared to. His lover, his mate, was offering to let him _take_ in the way old coding was calling for and he reveled in letting go.

There was no doubt that Jazz was enjoying it as well, panting and moaning every thrust, valve rippling around his mate's spike as he reveled in this different side of his mate. He was quickly coming to love this hidden bit of his mate that Prowl was showing him, and his processor made a note to tell Prowl this.

After he finished enjoying it.

The pace picked up, Prowl driving hard and deep with each thrust. His grunts were low, the movements sharp. It was a pattern Jazz knew and derided as rutting, something you did to someone, not with them, but as the pleasure and charge built, he had to reassess that. Prowl was rutting, yes, but he still, somehow, made it feel so very _good_.

Maybe it was who you were with, and the fact that Jazz had asked for it. Teased, challenged and dared his mate to take him and use him. And because on another level, Jazz knew that Prowl was not simply using him with the intent of discarding him later. Prowl cared enough to claim him for keeps.

That thought was enough to send a shiver through his frame, focusing Jazz enough to tilt his helm and nip Prowl's neck roughly. "Harder."

The shuddering groan and compliance, the full strength of an Enforcer frame turned to driving into Jazz with a kind of mindless abandon that teeked as much of relief in Prowl as pleasure, and the pleasure was intense.

The roar and first rush of transfluid came without warning, catching Jazz off-guard and shoving him roughly over the edge of an overload of his own as the energy shock hit the primed sensors in his valve.

Awareness whited out in cumulative pleasure built from so many sources. His own charge. His growing affection and desire for the mech taking him. Prowl's clear pleasure in Jazz and what they shared. All of it blending together to blind Jazz to the outside world, and for a moment trap him in place that existed outside of time and understanding.

Coming to was kind of fun, he decided as his optics started to work again. His field had already settled into the warm glow of being meshed with Prowl's. His frame was still safely secured between the strong Praxian and the thankfully very sturdy wall.

"Going to have to work on beating you more often." Jazz murmured, the first words rather slurred and growing clearer and steadier as he continued. "The rewards are worth the effort. Really worth the effort." He repeated.

"You'll have to earn every victory," Prowl promised with a nuzzle that was less than fully coordinated. "I do not like to lose."

"Ah, but are you losing, or winning here?" Jazz asked, knowing that he was asking himself the same question that he was voicing to his mate.

"This, _taking_ , is winning," Prowl's voice was a low rumble, the harmonics of running on far more base programming than usual. He claimed Jazz's mouth, hot and demanding, mapping every crevasse and sensor before finally letting his panting, revved up mate's mouth go. "So is coming in first." A slightly softer kiss, a greater display of social protocols as they booted. "But this, chasing, catching, claiming ... this is the sweetest one, even if I no longer have the anonymity of low rank to do it _right_."

"What is 'right'?" Jazz asked, offering another soft kiss as they continued to settle from the high and then nuzzling his mate contentedly from where he still was secured in Prowl's arms.

"To hunt, then chase, then capture, then _take_ ," Prowl shivered as he threw off the last of those deep desires and settled into his normal self. "With no care for where or who sees. Certain types of Enforcers have the quirk, a side effect of the predatory programming used. It was taken almost directly from cyberwolves. The kill at the end, for those of us who had to leave the unit, had to be changed to something and an interface drive was the simplest edit."

Jazz hummed thoughtfully, processor already working on scenarios as he relaxed against his mate. "I will have to find ways to give that you that more often." He said, subconsciously recorded memories rising of how good Prowl had felt when he had accepted what Jazz was offering.

Prowl nuzzled him, purring softly as gratitude and eagerness flared in his field. "Next time you win a set, run up here, run from me. Let me chase you."

The suggestion earned an eager chuckle from Jazz, promise answering the eagerness in Prowl's field. "I will. This is safe, for you?"

"At this track yes," Prowl nodded as he slowly withdrew his spike and settled Jazz's pedes on the floor. "You've noticed how many Enforcers seem to be here, and how many of the rest are priests? Some nobles come to this track, true, but this is a track for _hunters_. Most Praxian grounders need to race to be happy. But there are a few tracks that cater to those who enjoy more than just going fast and light competition. The pro track, for dedicated race frames. The noble's track. This is technically the Enforcer's track, but as I rose to power I forced policy changes that had Enforcers surviving past their duty vorns. Most of those old Enforcers came to the temple and many still race here. This track is safe, because they all know I was called to be one of _them_ and only wear the red because of politics. There are still limits, rules of conduct, but if you dare me to catch you and then run for a private space, they will not look for us. I think some may even smile to know I finally have a partner who understands the code enough to indulge it without fear."

"I am glad." Jazz sighed softly, drawing back to reach into his subspace and pull out several cleaning cloths. He claimed another quick kiss before dropping to his knees and start to wipe away the most blatant evidence of their activities. "Why the changes?"

Prowl reached down to stroke Jazz's helm, and sensor horn in particular, with one hand and accepted the care. "Because not all Enforcers were ready to extinguish when their frames or processors could no longer perform their function. Yet because of the law we were forced to either execute them or lie about having done so and give them a new identity."

His mate paused for a moment, leaning into the touch with a low purr that vibrated through his entire frame. "Forced deactivation." He murmured thoughtfully, considering that and how it must have hit his mate. "I'm glad you acted."

With a sigh he focused, finishing on Prowl before rising to his pedes once more and starting to work on his own frame.

"Yes," Prowl said softly as he watched Jazz clean himself with a growing but much calmer hunger. "Whatever you wish to call it, it was wrong. Just because someone paid for a mecha to be built and sparked should not grant them the right to have them deactivated when the contract is up."

"Acceptable?" Jazz asked, raising his arms and turning a circle for his mate's inspection and approval.

"Always," Prowl rumbled and drew Jazz in for a kiss when the turn finished. "You look good," he answered the question's intent.

"Just wanted to make sure that you would be willing to be seen with me in public." Jazz teased as he sneaked another kiss. "Can't do anything to endanger your honor after you treated me so well."

"You are good to me as well," Prowl rested their forehelms together briefly. "I would like to continue this in our berth."

"I like that. Maybe a pair of cuffs? You face down on the berth...me playing with your sensor wings...enjoying your valve..." Each suggested was spoken with increasing softness as Jazz's lips drew closer to his mate's and Prowl's ventilations picked up ahead of his temperature.

"Yes," Prowl moaned when the kiss finally connected. His hands slid along Jazz's sides and he gave to his field to express just how hot that idea made him.

"Then we should get going." Jazz said, stepping back after the kiss ended up but keeping hold of Prowl's hand, pulling the other mecha along with him. Prowl simply nodded and followed, taking a solid three paces outside the room before he organized himself enough to take the lead and display the control and rank he held for the walk out and drive home.


	7. Crystal Festival

Jazz marveled at the difference in his mate and in himself as they walked along, hand in hand, and enjoyed the Crystal Festival from a totally different perspective. A multi-orn event, Jazz had already been present as both the mate of Barasi, and as a beginner level exhibitor. Now though, paint altered and small modifications made to his frame, he was just another mech out with someone special to enjoy the sights and sounds of the event going on. 

He marveled too at the differences in Prowl the paintjob and minor changes made. Now black and white with red and gold highlights, Prowl was open with his affection in holding hands and affectionate touches. He still wasn't heavily demonstrative, but without the restrains of rank he was much more like he was in private and came across nearly as young and playful as Jazz was. How much Prowl enjoyed the various rides and the way he would cheer shamelessly at the races was a marvelous thing to watch and teek.

Selfishly Jazz wished this could happen more often, for both of their sakes. The pure joy he could feel in Prowl was something the Barasi deserved and got to experience far too little.

Something caught Jazz's attention out of the corner of his optic, and his field flared in delight. "Be back in a klik." He said, planting a kiss on Prowl's cheek and ducking away into the crowd.

It was a little longer than he had intended when he finally returned, but he hoped that his mate would forgive him when he showed him the reason. Swinging around to stand in front of Prowl, Jazz presented him with a small package, simple on the outside, and waited for a reaction. Prowl did not disappoint, not in reaction or in the honesty with which it was delivered.

A small squeal of delight, something that the Barasi of Praxus could _never_ give came as soon as Prowl recognized what he was looking at, then Jazz was grabbed for a deep kiss that promised a much more processor-blowing thank you later. 

"I did good." Jazz teased with a smile when the kiss finally broke, tipping his helm to rest his forehelm against Prowl's and holding his bonded tight without a care for the fact that they were standing in a middle of a busy midway. Around them came hums of approval, a chuckle of good humor and smiles at their affection and Prowl made no indication he wanted to let go.

"Yes, my love," Prowl offered a second soft kiss. "Thank you. Those are a real treat."

"So I hear. Funny thing, the vendor seemed to know exactly what I was doing." Jazz replied with exceeding good humor, still vibrating with happiness. "But I think the question now is- are we going to continue to stand here and block traffic, or are we going to move on? And do note that I have no objection to continuing to make fools of ourselves publicly."

Prowl laughed, a light, free, happy sound. "I think move on. We can indulge all we want at home. There is so much to see and do here that will be gone soon."

"Agreed." Jazz said with a final kiss before swinging around to walk at Prowl's side again, the Praxian's hand still clasped in his own. "Can we walk through the exhibit hall with the winning entries? You can show me which ones you judged. And Evenway entered one of those minature crystal growths that took first place I want to see."

"A myati. Of course," Prowl agreed readily and snuggled Jazz against his side as they began to walk again. "The display is always stunning. Some of the things that hobbyists manage are hard to believe."

"That I know. I can still remember some of the things that were entered in the expert category and rejected!" Jazz said, leaning into his mate and relishing the closeness he was being allowed, however short the time.

The hall was less densely populated than the surrounding areas. The displays were of little interest to sparklings and younglings, and even if their creators would have enjoyed viewing them, most had the sense to keep their young creations away from what were often very delicate objects. Like the first one that Jazz stopped to look at. The crystal lattice work was shaped to be accented a by the light source planted inside, and the slowly shifting colors created a soothing display of light and harmony.

"If what I've seen of your work is any indication, you will be among the experts soon," Prowl purred with unquestionable pride at his mate's prospects. "I have no doubt that you will win some vorns."

Jazz looked down and away, though his field couldn't hide how pleased he was at his mate's praise this close to the other mech. "Still a beginner." He mumbled.

"Yes, but one with a good optic for crystals and composition," Prowl purred, enjoying teasing his mate with honest praise. "If you continue your dedication, you will make the expert category and show very well in it in time."

A soft nuzzle and a kiss to the side of his was the answer Prowl got as they walked on, moving from category to category. Many of the pieces were magnificent, well worthy of their winning status. 

One made Jazz stop in his tracks because he was laughing so hard at a youngling's entry. The jumble of multi-colored crystals was entitled 'How my creators describe my room', and had placed third in the creativity category for the age division.

"It is not always about finesse," Prowl chuckled. "The youth categories are often the most enjoyable."

They moved onto a large and blocky thundercrest eagle perched on an equally solid branch, one from the intermediate category. It looked too simple to Jazz for the second place it had won. Though it was undeniably well crafted and polished, it was _simple_. Intentionally so from the stylized design, but compared to many other entries it wasn't much to look at.

"And this one?" Jazz asked, looking over with a critical optic, though the question was curious and thoughtful instead of condemning. "What warranted the award?"

"The difficulty in creating a smooth, glass-like finish in a crystal with all smooth curves, and the quality of the crystal," Prowl summed it up. "It is a very classic style that Trident perfected and popularized. Few mecha can create a flawless piece in this style."

"Not mine, but very impressive." Jazz said, able to appreciate the piece for what it was even if he did not personally care for the style. Now that he knew what he was looking for, the care and skill that had gone into the selection and the shaping of the crystal was clear, and he was very impressed.

"No, not yours," Prowl purred softly with a kiss to Jazz's jaw hinge. "Your work reflects your spark; young, full of movement and just a bit chaotic."

"And you like it." Jazz said with a smile, the words half statement and half question as they started to walk once more.

"Yes, your work and your spark," Prowl's field caressed Jazz's affectionately before turning his attention to the displays once more. "There is room to enjoy many styles."

"Oh, the live exhibits." The energy in Jazz's field jumped another notch as they moved into the potted and live displays. These were crystals growing and under production, and Jazz's personal main field of interest. He could appreciated the stylized art, but there was something about the potential for change in a still forming crystal that called to his spark, and the first display of natural shape mutations had most of his attention in a nanoklik.

Next to him Prowl's field rippled in happy amusement. Though it was not as interesting to him, he was delighted and very relieved that his mate had found a hobby that was so welcome in Praxus.

The categories for entries here was a broad as it had been in the art section, and Jazz happily wandered from one display to another before stopping in front of a simple but very well organized display of what appeared to be miniature crystal plants. Perfectly formed, but a fraction of the size of the normal ones of the types.

"Myati. Easily the most difficult discipline of crystal growing," Prowl said, which was about the end of his knowledge on the subject. He could teek in his mate's field how absolutely fascinated Jazz was with what he was seeing, twisting his frame and standing on toe plates to get the best view from every angle possible.

"There's Evenway's." Jazz finally spoke indication a rising, twisting spiral of soft blue, pink, and green. A second place marker was proudly displayed next to the plant, along with a description of the classification of crystal and the specific shape. "When he was telling me about it he said the shape was a very common one, but that getting this sort of crystal to balance in three colors like this was the hard part." Jazz explained to his mate.

Prowl hummed his understanding, such as it was. "Do you believe you might try growing myati crystals?"

"I'd like to, eventually. Evenway is going to introduce me to the group of mecha in the club he is in that focus specifically on this type. Though he did warn me that it might require more patience then I have." Jazz admitted with a laugh.

"Oh, I think you have a great deal of patience," Prowl grinned and tipped Jazz's face up for a kiss. "You simply require a personal motivation to implement it."

"And you think I have a motivation?" Jazz asked, melting into the contact and the soft exchange of kisses that followed.

"I believe that if you find it appealing enough, you will," Prowl smiled. "You told me yourself; you can be still and careful when you _want_ to be. The pursuit simply must be appealing enough."

"True. Very true." The admission came with a deep brush of Jazz's field against Prowl's full of affection at the reinforcement that his mate listened and considered what Jazz said important enough to be remembered. "I'd like to see the color variation entries as well, then we can go, if you are getting bored."

Prowl purred at the thoughtfulness. "It is very difficult to be bored when you are enjoying it this much. You feel so _alive_ when you are excited about something."

"And I'm dead when I'm not excited?" Jazz teased with a laugh and tugged his mate in the direction of the next category he wanted to see. "The color variation, then the free-form sized ones, and we can go. I'd probably stay here a whole orn if you weren't here to get me out."

"Now I know where to send someone if I need you when I'm busy with duties," Prowl grinned at him, his spark content to follow his mate anywhere that made Jazz feel so good. "You are not dead when you are bored, you are dangerously mischievous."

The mocking laugh that met his declaration had an evil hint to it, but the field underneath was all joy and teasing as Jazz stopped to admire the free-form crystals, one particular arrangement of tall spires catching his attention. "If I can grow something like that, would you let me bring it home?"

"I would enjoy giving it a place of honor in our home," Prowl's spark nearly burst at Jazz referring to the Barasi's quarters as _home_ for the first time. "There is plenty of space for your things there."

"And me as well, I hope." Jazz said, leaning back against his mate and reveling in the warm feelings coming from Prowl, his optics still on the tall arrangement. "Speaking of home, is it time to head that way for you?"

"I do not have any obligations until fifth joor. I can remain out longer ... unless you'd like something that's there," his field flicked out with a question of pleasure.

"If what's 'there' is you, I'll take it any orn." Jazz purred, field flaring with back with a different sort of excitement, though one that was no less rich than the happiness he'd felt being at the festival.

"Then where to next?" Prowl asked with a soft kiss to Jazz's stubby sensor horn.

"Home." Jazz shivered. The touch was usually soothing, comforting, but after all of the teasing and feeling Prowl like this, he wanted his mate _alone_.

"Then home it is," Prowl rumbled, eager to enjoy his lover in such a mood.


	8. Etiquette and Honor

Of all the classes and tutors he had, Sarpresul Flashdrive was his least favorite. The etiquette master was demanding, though that wasn't why Jazz was beginning to hate him. No, it was because the priest, unlike the majority, insisted on talking down to Jazz like he was some kind of barely tamed mechanimal or barbarian that had no concept of who he was bonded to or how to behave in polite society, and probably never would.

Just like now, which seemed to be focused on the upcoming Royal Gala. After circling him and commenting on the fact that it was a good thing that _professionals_ would be seeing to his frame and finish before he was seen in polite company, the Sarpresul had pointed Jazz to a chair and started in on his lecture.

It started with things Jazz had asked Honor the very first orn. How to address Prowl ... _the Barasi_ , he was never Prowl to Flashdrive, moved on to how to touch, or rather how to not touch. Which amounted to 'just don't' but had taken half a joor to say. Displays of affection, which Jazz suspected Flashdrive had seen, were railed on about at length. It didn't seem to matter that Prowl accepted them. Flashdrive was of the opinion that the Barasi was entirely too lenient with protocol.

From what Jazz was able to boil it down to, Jazz was to do nothing but be on Prowl's arm, and only _after_ it was offered to him, and be a silent shadow. Or if they were to dance, Primus save them all, he was to maintain perfect posture and his hands were to remain in the most proper positions with his frame a discreet distance from his mate.

Sometimes Jazz had to wonder what Flashdrive really though of the _the Barasi_ that he was supposed to be honoring. He had to forcibly drag his attention back to his tutor when the slide show began. It wasn't even holos of real mecha, but heavily simplified drawings, some animated, of sensor wing postures and what each meant in a glyph or two. Along with each Flashdrive babbled on about context and how Jazz should or _should not_ respond. Things every Praxian knew by the time they were in their second sparkling upgrade, but Jazz, a noble and full adult, couldn't possibly have picked up or had the sense to ask about in the six and a half decaorns he'd been in Praxus.

As hard as he tried, Jazz couldn't follow it all. His processor kept drifting to other things. The seed crystal that Evenway had given him. The lights that he had ordered for the set-up that he was working on in the space that had been given as his own. The praising comments Prowl had made on the small crystal arrangement that Jazz had slipped into the library one orn, a perfect compliment to the decor already there.

Between each Jazz yanked his focus back to the slide, managing to focus for a few before it would start to wander again. He already knew most of it, which didn't help. What he didn't know and did hear wasn't anything he couldn't have extrapolated. Despite the phrase 'wing language' it wasn't really a language any more than posture or teeking was. It conveyed information, sometimes specific information, but you couldn't _talk_ with them.

"Jazz!" Flashdrive rapped his pointer on the table in front of Jazz.

Jazz flinched and jumped, field pulling and his entire being going into flight or fight mode in a nanoklik. "What?" He just stopped himself from growling the question at his tutor.

"Pay attention. The Lords Ball is in less than two decaords. You must be prepared for it," Flashdrive said tartly.

"I know." Jazz snapped, bristling. "So far most of this is useless." He said, waving a hand at the slides. "I can behave, and Prowl has yet to express disapproval with the way I act, at least not that hasn't been easily corrected. I have no intention of embarrassing him. Or you."

" _The Barasi_ is entirely too tolerant," Flashdrive said stiffly. "The Lords will not be so understanding of your upbringing. They will look for reasons to find you wanting."

"Isn't that his call to make?" Jazz asked, then flopped back in his seat, sulking some. "And what can the Lords do, but talk?"

"Talk, withdraw their support, pressure Barasi Prowl to resign, damage the pubic opinion," Flashdrive scowled. "Just because we do not indulge in violent revolutions and political executions here does not mean that there are not consequences to your actions."

"And you think that trying to shove all of this in my processor will help?" Jazz demanded. "What am I supposed to be?

"At least marginally acceptable to your new peers," Flashdrive glared. "Do you _want_ to make the Barasi look bad?"

"I already said I didn't!" Jazz snapped. "I don't want to do anything that would hurt Prowl."

"Than pay attention and _learn_ ," Flashdrive insisted as he turned back to the lesson.

With a sigh Jazz settled back in the chair and did his best to focus, having a little bit of success by reminding himself that it was for Prowl.

* * *

Jazz was quiet as he mixed the energon he shared with Prowl every evening. It had become a routine in their short time together, sitting in the library and sharing their orn. Prowl was running late tonight, but that was not unusual. If he was going to be more than half a joor late, he commed. Without that comm, Prowl would be there soon. So Jazz set the cubes on their appropriate side tables before flopping on his favorite lounge with a bookfile and cuing some music to start.

When Prowl arrived, only two breems late that night, he made a grateful sound for the soft music and waiting energon. It might be normal, but he needed it more than usual tonight.

"How was your orn?" he asked as he sat in his favorite chair and picked up to sip the highly acidic high grade with another sound of relief mingling into pleasure.

"Normal." Jazz said, the book file placed to one side as Prowl settled so that Jazz could focus on his mate, his own energon still untouched. His field was drawn in as well, not loose and at ease like it usually was when they were alone together. "There were several new sparklings in the care center this morning, and a small paint fight was the result."

Prowl smiled slightly, but his focus was on his mate. "What went badly?" he asked gently.

"The sparklings were fine." Jazz informed him, venting softly. "Skysign got them straightened out, and I'm sure it won't happen again. At least not with paint."

Prowl hummed. "Flashdrive came to see me." He stated, fairly sure the etiquette instructor had to do with Jazz's mood.

Confirmation came in the form of a visible cringe by the mech on the lounge, Jazz's field flaring in frustration and anger strong enough for Prowl to teek. "I'm trying! But Primus- He spends the entire session telling me how I am supposed to act around you and around others and accusing me of not caring and wanting to hurt you and- and-"

Jazz's rant went silent, but it did nothing for the trembling of his frame, a mix of frustration and very old and ingrained _fear_.

Prowl sighed through his vents and stood to gather Jazz in his arms. "Shu. I know. He is the most knowledgeable mech in the temple for social protocols, but he is also very prejudiced. He was not pleased to find out he was responsible for your education. I will assign someone else, though you already know much of what you need to."

"So you aren't 'displeased' with me?" Jazz asked, still tense. "The way he talks- if that is how I need to be I wish you'd left me with the coding intact."

"No, I'm not displeased with you," Prowl kissed the center of his forehelm lightly. "I'm disappointed with him. Yes, you should know what he is teaching, but he takes social protocol far more seriously than most. I should have realized how poor a match he was. I assumed that the importance of teaching you would outweigh his personal issues. It is clearly not true. I asked how he was instructing you after he complained."

Jazz finally relaxed, snuggling into Prowl's arms and warm field in relief. "Thank you."

"I regret you will face his kind, but they exist in all societies," Prowl said quietly. "The line between pride and prejudice can be a very fine one. This city is a proud one."

"I'll deal with it." Jazz promised, understanding what Prowl was saying. "Assuming my lessons will continue after he told you what a poor student I am, who has to put up with me now?"

There was an attempt at his usual good humor there, hoping to lighten the mood some and reassure Prowl.

"I believe I will ask Honor to teach you. She may not know as much as Flashdrive, but she knows everything you will need to."

"That would be welcome. She managed to get everything I needed to know for the bonding ceremony into me, at least." Jazz pointed out as he lifted his helm, nuzzling at his mate now that things were smoothing out in his stress and he could think of other things.

Like how to properly thank his bonded.

The kiss was warm and soft, turning passionate only after the final stress had dissolved. When it ended, Prowl's frame was noticeably warmer and he teeked of arousal.

"Was there anything else that happened today?" Prowl rumbled.

"Nothing worth talking about." Jazz said with a smile, pulling Prowl down for another kiss, deeper than the last one had ended and inviting with everything that he had to offer.

His mate. His bonded. The mech who had earned his love when he didn't need to, and who had offered his own, as much as he could give, in return.

Prowl moaned softly into the kiss and ran his hands down Jazz's sides. "Berth?" he gasped out when Jazz finally released his mouth.

"If you can make it that far." Jazz teased, stretching up to plant a kiss on his mate's helm, square on the chevron shield, simply because he loved the way it usually made Prowl shiver.

"I will if you do," Prowl rumbled, letting his mate go with a flicker of desire to _chase_.

Jazz rolled from the lounge as soon as he was free, landing smoothly on his pedes and darting away, deliberately taking the long way around to the berth room from the library.

"Why don't we find out?" Ha called back to the roar of his mate's engine and the heavy sound of Prowl running after him. If he wasn't for the grins they both sported, it could have looked like Prowl was out to hurt his mate instead of Jazz indulging his mate. There was an element of challenge here too, and Jazz found himself enjoying it as he wove and danced through their quarters, careful to not upset or damage anything but still stay one or two steps ahead of his mate.

One pace from the berth and the mass of his bonded tackled Jazz from behind, pinning him face down on the berth with a heavily revving engine against his back, Prowl's highly aroused field pushing into his frame and deep red hips grinding against his aft.

Jazz surrendered, sprawling facedown on the softly padded surface as his legs spread, offering his valve to his mate. Anticipation coursed through him, pleasure not only from the good hard frag he knew he was going to get, but also from the pleasure and satisfaction that he knew it brought Prowl on such a deep level. It was amazing how fast his outlook on this position and the aggression had changed once he trusted his mate. It had gone from a violation to a pleasure all on knowing that Prowl cared for his pleasure, and that any reason was good enough to stop or shift the interface, and it wouldn't be held against him.

That had probably been the hardest lesson. That Prowl really wouldn't hold it against him. Yet as that wonderful spike pressed into him, stretching him delightfully, he knew it was true. As riled as his mate was, being pinned and taken hard was entirely Jazz's choice.

With a moan Jazz pushed his hips back, urging his mate on and wanting to be taken like this. Willingly surrendering power, even if it was mostly an illusion of surrender like this, was something that went against the world he had come from.

His valve rippled around the spike of his mate, more for Jazz's pleasure than his mate's, since once Prowl started moving like this there was little for Jazz to do but enjoy what was being done to him. It wasn't a difficult task, even in this mood, Prowl paid attention and wanted his lover to feel good. The thrusts were even and smooth, strong and deep, rubbing against as many sensors as possible. As much as Jazz would have liked to have not been taken roughly before Prowl, he now saw it as a lesson on why to treasure this mech becoming his mate all the more.

Prowl grunted as he thrust, his hot x-vents rushing over Jazz in bursts that made his plating tingle and left Jazz wanting more. Jazz hands dug into the padding as he moaned and cried for his mate. "Only you. Feel so good. Love me. Take me. Caught me."

Truths to the mech who had caught more than just Jazz's frame.

"Mine. Lover. _Mine_." Prowl grunted in reply as energy began to crackle along his plating and jump to Jazz's, sending sparks of pleasure through him, but the real surges came from inside, where the charge jumped from spike to valve and back through the highly conductive lubricant.

The pinned mech under him cried out softly, valve squeezing down with each surge of energy and resulting rush of pleasure that washed through his frame.

This was as far from humiliating as Jazz could imagine. This was mutual, wonderful, blissful sharing and they both got off on how much the other enjoyed. Jazz _knew_ it, right down to his spark. Prowl wouldn't find chasing and catching him nearly as appealing if Jazz didn't enjoy the results. Deeply coded desires or not, Prowl wasn't a slave to them.

The rhythm shifted, the pace picking up speed and strength and losing some of its smoothness as Prowl's pleasure built to the first signs of his pending overload and how the charge messed with his motor control.

"Strong. Beautiful. Mine. Lover." Jazz gasped with each thrust, frame arching into the rough motion as much as it was able as his processor gave up thought and just allowed him to feel, priming his frame to fall over the edge when Prowl went. The shudder against him turned into an explosion across his frame with the first burst of transfluids into his valve. The surge of heat and current into deep sensors that could only be reached by the thick liquid.

Above him Prowl grunted and shuddered as his frame locked up, his only movement a small grinding of his hips against Jazz's with each burst of transfluid. His field was wild however, thrusting deep into Jazz with each pulse of Prowl's spark to inundate Jazz with Prowl's pleasure, and how very satisfying this was for him.

The rush tore a keen from Jazz, his frame dancing with the energy as his spark raced and pulsed, surging with the energy and how _good_ it felt. Even Prowl at his most aggressive was unquestioningly a _lover_ in the best sense and Jazz reveled in it, in his incredible luck to have been forced into a bond arrangement with _this_ mech.

Slowly Prowl relaxed against Jazz's back, humming and engine purring with pleasure. A lazy nuzzle was given to the back of Jazz neck as Prowl gently pulled out and sank to his side against Jazz. Jazz squirmed around until nestled in Prowl's arms, face to face and chest to chest with the other mech. "So good." He whispered, kissing his mate with all the thanks and contentment that he felt at being right where he was.

"Yes," Prowl willingly exchanged a few more kisses as his systems finished cycling down from the overload into a lax contentment. "I'm glad you enjoy my strongest kink."

"It's fun. Not something I would have said before." Jazz said with a smile, enjoying the exchange of gentle kisses. "So is this, in a way I didn't know was possible, but would like to try again." Jazz added, moving a hand to caress the armor over Prowl's spark suggestively.

The soft sound it drew from Prowl came with a flare of eagerness in his field. Without hesitation Prowl rolled to his back and coaxed Jazz on top of him before sliding his chest armor open.

His mate answered, pausing to admire the brilliant, clean white of Prowl's spark before his own armor opened and his spark chamber spiraled forward. His spark pulsed eagerly, still feeling the deep push that had been _Prowl_ during the overload, and wanting that feeling on the even deeper level it knew was possible. That Prowl's spark was always warm, welcoming and so very calm in its acceptance was a balm for Jazz's self-worth issues and deep in a merge, Jazz could not doubt that Prowl enjoyed soothing those fears.

Tendrils reached out, sending ever-finer leaders to seek the other. Sometimes connecting to frame, or chamber, until one finally connected to a leader from the other side and there was a burst of spark energy going both ways.

That first burst had Jazz moaning again, helm falling forward to kiss Prowl, his spark already singing of thanks and welcome across the tenuous connection. The stronger spark with its deeper connection to the Well of All Sparks rumbled a welcome in reply, joyous for the contact that was not using it as a power source and conduit to transit between realms.

~No. Just here and now.~ The brilliant blue-green light promised as Jazz sank into the merge, letting go with a release and a trust that he allowed no one else, and still didn't quite understand how Prowl had earned so quickly.

Prowl's spark thrummed in pleasure as Prowl moaned, his processors just as grateful that this was for pleasure.

~Love you. I'm so lucky that of all possible sparks, yours was sent to be with me,~ Prowl's spark more than Prowl trilled across the connection. ~You are thriving. It feels so good.~ 

~You are letting me.~ A deeper admission from Jazz, grateful and joyful. ~Still don't understand your world, but want to be a part of it.~

~You will be,~ Prowl purred. ~You are adapting quickly and well. You are everything that will do well here.~

~And yours.~ The sense of Jazz adding, letting go and seeking the blissful peace it knew resided here with a focused greed. He was welcomed, his greed indulged and he felt it feed something Prowl needed. That need was harder to name, but it made it all the easier for Jazz indulge himself.

The physical pleasure of the merge, the charge it generated, was secondary to them both. They were after the emotional intimacy and what they felt in the spark of the other. Peace, vibrant life, acceptance, desire, growing affection that was turning to love.

It was all that Jazz had been seeking when he asked, and when the overload finally came it was almost an afterthought, so lost was he in the comfort and warmth that was all and only Prowl.

The lingering sense of belonging, acceptance and being valued suffused Jazz as he roused himself enough to settle in for recharge and ensure that his mate was comfortable, then gratefully sank into recharge himself.

* * *

Primped and polished to within an inch of losing his processor, Jazz vented softly from where he waited on Prowl's arm. They were still several back in the line of mecha waiting to be formally announced at the Royal Gala, the very last in line because of Prowl's rank, giving Jazz a few kliks to settle himself. Only the Lord of Praxus was introduced after the Barasi, and since this was his home he didn't wait in line. He simply arrived when it was time.

Looking around, he couldn't help but feel a little _plain_ , even though the priests at the temple had done their usual excellent work. Praxians were a colorful, flashy lot at every rank, but those with the shanix to spend were decked out in precious metals, gems and iridescent paint, if not even fancier color-changing nanite finishes. Even Prowl looked more decorative than Jazz. Yes, he was largely a single shade of red, but the glyphs decorating his frame were gleaming silver and gold and made him very interesting to look at.

Introductions did not take long so the line moved fairly fast. One stepped out, paused at the top of the grand staircase in view of everyone already there while titles and designations were read off by the herald, then you walked down. Hopefully with enough grace to look good.

The arm under his hand moved, and Jazz stepped forward at Prowl's side. Out of the shadows and into the brilliant spotlights illuminating the top of the grand staircase. Below them was spread the rest of the invited guests, and there was no way that every optic in the place was not on them as the herald called out a formal introduction.

"The Barasi of Praxus, Prowl. The Barasi's bonded, Jazz," rang out for all to hear.

The faintest brush of Prowl field against him, full of confidence in his mate as they started down the stairs. Smooth, confident and in perfect sync. Still, Jazz was relieved when they reached the bottom and some of the attention finally shifted away from them as the Lords of Praxus were introduced.

With Skysound and Evenway on the floor the party began. Almost immediately the center of the room was cleared of standers by and the dancing began. A simple dance, but one of great elegance requiring poise and balance as well as perfect timing. Around the outside of the grand ball room servants began to circulate with flutes of high grade and small one-bite confections, candies and other solids of exquisite crafting.

"Would you dance with me?" Prowl's request was formal, but his field spoke of genuine desire.

"It would be an honor, Barasi." Jazz replied just formally, his own field tingling with nervousness but warm with the unspoken 'my bonded' that was what Jazz really wanted to address Prowl with.

With a smile that showed only in his field, Prowl led Jazz to the dance floor, then into the simple turning dance that glided around the room in a larger circle.

This was at least something that Jazz could manage, his athletic nature and his trust in Prowl making their dance a thing of grace to watch, in time with the music and with each other. Jazz even managed to find the right balance between losing himself in his mate and the music and maintaining the perfect public appearance of posture and decent distance from his bonded's frame. It was far less difficult than he'd once expected, and he had no doubt that the ease came with his trust in his dance partner.

It also ended all too soon with a single circuit of the room. Then the Barasi was shyly asked to dance by a mechling, the eldest creation of Lord Skysound's first creation, and he was away from Jazz's side for the first time in public.

Jazz had been tutored on this too though, and relinquished his bonded to the mechling with grace and genuine good will, the softly spoken request earning the smallest of smiles as they moved away and Jazz found himself at the edge of the crowd observing.

He was now free to socialize, though he was expected to keep at least half an optic on Prowl at all times, ready to answer his mate's summons in a nanoklik. Not that it was a power that Jazz really expected Prowl to utilize, but until things were more settled, it seemed better to be safe than sorry. If nothing else, everyone else would expect him to show such attendance to his mate, and it would be looked at poorly if he did not.

Some energon sounded good as well, and Jazz turned his helm, looking to catch the optic of the next server that was in range. A tray arrived for him with flutes of half a dozen varieties, packets that dissolved neatly to flavor them and a small selection of solids.

Jazz selected one of the flutes, skipped the additive, and helped himself to a solid as well before offering a small nod of thanks to the server. Content with what he had in his hands now, his attention wandered back to the fuller dance floor, noting who was there and seeing how many he could identify.

The nobility and mecha of rank here were the same as the common mecha he saw every orn, but different at the same time. The multiple sensor wing panels, each making the appendage longer and taking the tip closer to the floor, were the main symbols of status and rank were in abundant evidence here. There were only two lengths visible; the single panels of the servants and the full three panels of the nobility and other ranking mecha. What was of interest to Jazz was how they were accented.

He started to wander slowly, noting how some mecha were clearly showing off, their wings decorated and displayed as much as possible. One he could understand, since it looked like a courting in progress, with every motion and action designed and displayed for the benefit of a mechling on the verge of adult upgrades nearby that was openly and visibly enchanted by the display of subtle and not so subtle movements.

Another one he passed he knew was a lower ranking noble who tended to think more highly of himself than he ought, a regular visitor to the temple who came to be _seen_ instead of seeking peace, instruction, or even simple company. Here among the royalty and high nobility, far more than in the temple, his displays were painfully inappropriate in Jazz's assessment. If the optic rolls and dismissive flicks of armor and sensor wings were any indication, he was not alone in that assessment.

"That's him," someone stage whispered nearby. "I can't believe the Barasi actually brought him out in public like this."

"Yes, he could at least have had reconstructive surgery to _look_ like he isn't some outsider _commoner_."

"I'm surprised that no one has insisted on doing something about his appearance. And to enter with him openly on his arm like that!" Another voice chimed in, and it registered who they were talking about. Jazz slowed a step, watching as his bonded changed partners on the dance floor once more, his back to the not-whispers behind him.

"Can you imagine, the Prime thinking that a _commoner_ from that backwater is somehow a viable trade for Lord Papiltan!" A fifth voice hissed with genuine anger.

Prowl liked him. Prowl approved of him. Prowl had given no indication that Jazz had acted in anything less than a satisfactory manner. It had been the Prime's order. Jazz vented several times, running those thoughts through his processor, using them as a shield against the doubt, hurt, and anger that was building in his systems.

This was a game of posturing, and he couldn't leave now. Posturing he understood, and walking away would show how much it hurt, and that he had heard. Another klik, and he could move, but for now he kept his optics centered on the dance floor. At least he had something there well worth watching. The incredible grace of Prowl dancing with Skysound, a dance that was different from any other dance that would be performed tonight. While they were one many of couples, they were the only pair that traded the lead every two turns.

"I wonder if the Barasi indulges him as much as they say? What can he see in that strange mech..." The words trailed away as Jazz moved away. The time he had set for himself had passed, and he needed to move before he gave in to the urge to turn around and explode. Prowl had said that Praxians were proud to the point of arrogance, even a mild xenophobia, but this was the first truly blatant example. Flashdrive's irritation may have been caused by it, but it could have also been from perfectionism and Jazz being a poor student. This, that talk, could be driven by nothing else.

No matter what Jazz told himself, it _hurt_.

"A dance, my Lord Jazz?" a light, lovely voice drew Jazz's attention to one of the few other non-Praxians in the room. A mech from Iacon by frame and the faintest of accents. This mech's field was warm and friendly, inviting Jazz to be at ease.

"It would be my pleasure, as would the knowledge of your designation." Jazz answered, quickly getting his field under control so that it echoed the welcome and the true relief he felt at the invitation.

"Leoaica," the mech smiled with his full, formal designation.

"How long have you been in Praxus?" Jazz asked, warming a little with the open sharing of information as they stepped out into the dance floor and inserted themselves smoothly into the pattern of the current dance.

"Three hundred and twelve vorns," Leoaica said smoothly, expertly following Jazz's lead and giving no indication he noticed any flaws there may have been. "The chatter will stop after a few vorns."

"Even for someone like me?" Jazz asked easily they stepped around the floor. His dancing this time was not as smooth as it had been with Prowl, he wasn't at all used to leading despite being taught how, but he was sure that it was still creditable.

"I expect so. The next target will come up, you will become old news. Only the most dedicated of haters will have anything against you by the time you've established yourself," Leoaica said with the certainty of experience. "That you have support from such high rank will be to your advantage as well. Even in Praxus one does not wish to unduly anger the Lord of the City or the Barasi."

"So mind my manners and watch my step, and soon enough they'll find someone they like less than me, hopefully." Jazz summed up quietly, but all in good humor as he guided them around a pair of mechlings that were more interested in each other than in where they were going.

"That is how it typically works," Leoaica agreed. "There will always be a few who will never accept you, but that is true in any group. Your bonded can protect you should you need it and he be inclined to."

"I understand. Thank you." Jazz said as the music stopped. Stepping back, he bowed slightly to his partner. "You are a wonderful dancer."

"Thank you Lord Jazz," Leoaica bowed deeply before moving away to find a new dance partner.

"You dance well," a smooth, haughty voice from behind him managed to make an insult of the complement.

"Thank you for noticing." Jazz said, turning to the speaker as he gave the proper and courteous reply that had been drilled in to him for when one received a compliment, sincere or not. He ended up face to face with a noble he actually recognized from the VIP short list. Request was Skysound's youngest brother, the fifth of their creator's unusually large family. Created a royal and now only a noble, he was still sibling to the Lord of Praxus and a mech to be careful of.

Honor had also warned him that unlike his eldest brother, Request was the worst Praxian pride could produce.

"What is your gift for Primor's?" Request asked absently.

"I'm sorry, my gift for what?" Jazz asked, helm tilting to the side as he looked at the Praxain, trying to figure out what Request could want with him.

There was a glint in blue optics that Jazz knew well. The mech had gotten what he wanted.

"What will you give your bonded on The Orn to Honor the Primor?" Request said slowly and with much simpler glyphs and harmonics.

"I'm not sure yet." Jazz answered, processor spinning as he smothered any emotion in his field carefully. It wouldn't do to let the mech in on the fact that Jazz had no idea what he was talking about, no matter how true it was.

"There are only five orns left," Request's smile was nasty. "You may need to resort to something from a shop."

"I-will keep that in mind. Thank you." Jazz said, nodding his helm. "Your pardon, please." He said, retreating as gracefully as he could, slightly shaken. He was greatful the powerful noble didn't follow or try to stop him.

"I would suggest ignoring him, but he has too much rank for it," Evenway's voice was low as he ghosted past. "He's one that will never accept you."

Jazz knew he was right. Gathering himself, he put his public face back on and started working his way through the crowd once more. Word of his ignorance was already starting to get around, if the snickers and judgmental optics that followed his passing were anything to go by.

Helm held high, he carried on, forcing himself to be polite and courteous, an extension of his mate in all things. Honor had summed up the way he needed to act in those words, making more sense and having more of an impact on Jazz in a single klik than orns of Flashdrive's lessons had. Despite his intentions, Jazz found himself gravitating to the handful of non-Praxian frames, and realized that even those who were long-term residents and established seemed to like the company of other outsiders.

"It won't look any worse to hang out with us for a while," Leoaica's voice caressed Jazz's audials as the lower ranked mech discreetly guided Jazz to join the small group. "It's nice to have a respite now and then, even when they stop picking on you en mass."

"So this is a common thing at gatherings like this?" Jazz asked softly as he looked around the group, noting the other outsiders. There were several more from Iacon, two he counted that had builds of the style popular in Tyger Pax, and several other styles that he could not identify right away.

"Always," Leoaica said easily before introducing the others.

"Even when they stop picking on you, a lot of them aren't fond that we're given resident status," Evergreen from Ankmor Park added after everyone had been introduced. "The teeking can get tiring after a while."

"Still better than Vos," Quasar from Altihex muttered, though he teeked far less resentful that he sounded. "They are seriously xenophobic mecha."

"Do you just learn to deal with the negativity, or is escaping like this how you deal?" Jazz asked, quickly finding himself much more at ease here than he had been the entire evening since he had left his mate's arms.

"A bit of both," Leoaica said with a slight shrug of his ornate shoulder armor. "You have to learn to deal with the negativity to perform your function for long, but retreating from time to time to be with friendlier fields helps. Some of the nobles are honestly nice, but it seems more individual on who they connect with."

"Yes. Evenway seems to like you, but it's not common," one of the others spoke up.

"A common interest might help." Jazz admitted. "He has a passion for crystal growing, and is very skilled at it. He has been very generous in sharing what he knows with me."

"I can see that," Quasar nodded. "Praxus is into crystals like Vos is into open air. It's a good hobby to have."

"Being mated to the Barasi, who's basically the second Lord of Praxus, probably helps too. Lords Skysound and Prowl are rather close." Fairlight from Iacon suggested. "It'll help out a lot. There are not many who would dare to truly anger Lord Prowl."

"So I have heard." Jazz said. "Though there seem to be enough will to tread the line rather closely. What have you found here in Praxus that you enjoy?"

"The racing is not bad, if you are in to speed. I think I have seen you at the track several times." Quickscan admitted, the Iconian nodding at Jazz. "You're good."

"Thank you." Jazz said. "Maybe we can arrange a match or two, sometime. I always enjoy a good race."

"I'd like that," Quickscan smiled shyly.

"What other hobbies do you have?" Quasar asked.

"Besides racing and crystals? I help with the care centers for the sparklings and younglings at the temple. Class occupies a lot of my other free time." Jazz said.

There were sounds of sympathy and understanding all around. It was a torture they'd all suffered, even the best prepared when they'd arrived.

"How were things in Kalis when you left?" Fairlight asked. "I spend three vorns there as a youngling, before the Royal House fell."

"Nothing like what you remember, I am sure." Jazz murmured softly, thinking over the place that he had left, and comparing it to the place that he had come to. "The temple has little influence any more, and it is very production oriented. Profit is the main concern these orns."

"Would you be interested in attending some of our get-togethers Jazz?" Evergreen asked, waving a hand to indicate that by 'we' he meant all of those present in their little group. "We take turns trying to organize them once a metacycle or so."

"What sort of things do you do?" Jazz asked, his field teeking of more than polite interest at the possibility of other company.

"It depends on who's hosting, but generally we have energon, talk and relax with no one of importance around," Leoaica smiled, careful harmonics indicating importance was more a matter of frame than social or political standing. It was simply a gathering where they didn't have to tow the Praxian social line and could relax with mecha who wouldn't make a fuss over social quirks.

"There are games, catching up on news from our origin cities, sometimes we go racing or such," Quickscan added.

"Once every few vorns someone manages to organize a trip somewhere," Quasar hummed with pleasant memories. "Last vorn Leoaica took us to Crystal City. It was a great time."

"Those big events are the exception," Leoaica was quick to say. "Most of the time we just gather in a room or garden and enjoy the company for an orn or two, or just a few joors if that's all someone can stay."

"I'd like that." Jazz said with a genuine smile. "I'd like to come, if you don't mind. Maybe after I learn some more I can get in on the rotation as well."

Fairlight nodded. "I will send the information to you. I am hosting the next gathering."

"I look forward to it." Jazz smiled, offering his personal contact information in a small info packet.

"Jazz," Evenway's smooth voice caught everyone's attention. "May have this dance?"

"I would be honored, Lord Evenway." Jazz said, handing off the flute of highgrade he had been holding to another. "Thank you all. Until later." He added to the group as he moved away with the bonded of the Lord of Praxus.

"I see you have met the resident immigrant Lords," Evenway said with only the faintest hint of dislike in his harmonics as he led Jazz into the circling dance pattern.

"I have." Jazz agreed, level and calm in the face of the slightly hostile emotions. "They were very welcoming."

"Most extreme minorities will be," he said reasonably. "You are the first from Kalis, from before or after the takeover. Iacon seems to provide more than its share."

"And you do not approve of them?" Jazz asked, the question soft and his field cautious. He had no wish to alienate someone that he had come to consider a friend during his short time here, but he also wanted to know how fine of a line was he was going to have to walk.

"I understand the necessity of alliances by bond, but no, I do not approve of it. Every mech not of this city that becomes a resident is a Praxian that cannot be sparked," Evenway said, and there was a hint of the frustration at the foundation of his dislike. "Your case is different from the others. You were part of a trade, and Prowl was not going to bond of his own accord anyway. Even though it was my creation that left, your arrival did not stop a Praxian life."

"So more mecha bond into the city than out of it? Is that why there seems to be such a general dislike of mecha like me?" Jazz asked, his own field holding no hostility, only a desire to understand.

"Bond, or have other sufficient reason to live here long-term. Yes, to see an outsider that lives here is a visible statement that they are more important than a sparkling from here. Praxus is only as wealthy and stable as it is because of how tightly we control our population. Have you looked at the statistics for sparkings and deactivations in the city?"

"Not the actual numbers." Jazz said, catching himself just before he made a miss-step in the dance that would have thrown them both for a bit. "I have some idea of Prowl's schedule now though."

"By law, the annual population for Praxus may not increase by more than two thousand three hundred, or slightly less than one per orn," Evenway explained. "It ensures the city's prosperity. It also ensures that many mecha who would like sparklings will never have more than one."

Jazz did falter slightly at that, his field flickering with apology as he found his step once more. "I'm sorry. Another area where Kalis is different than Praxus...though I would suspect that our annual deactivation rate is much higher."

"Even the official deactivation rate of Kalis is many, many times what it is here. The cause spread is dramatically different as well," Evenway agreed. "The majority of deactivations in Praxus are from age-related spark or system failure. Next is complications from the deactivation of a bonded mate. Accidental causes are third. Kalis lists accidental deactivation in traffic collisions as the leading cause. Sometimes Praxus will go an entire metacycle without a traffic fatality. Occasionally more than a vorn without a personal violence caused deactivation outside the military."

"The numbers are likely correct, even if the reasons given are not." Jazz agreed. "How long has the law been in effect?"

"Since the founding of the city," Evenway was undeniably proud of the fact. "Praxus was an experiment, and we exceeded all predictions. Why what we learned was not used elsewhere I do not understand, other than that it is political. Too much inertia in the system to change it enough. The goal has always been to control our population increase so resources were never strained. The exact ratio of population growth has altered over the vorns, but never the intent. How we determine it is also in the city's founding charter."

"I hope it continues to work for you." Jazz said honestly. He hesitated a moment before jumping in to the next question. "I noticed several Vosnians tonight. They seem right at home. Are they different?"

The surprise that flashed across Evenway's field was sharp despite the effort to control it. "Yes," he answered a bit stiffly. "It was an expedition from Vos that founded Praxus. We still carry much of their coding."

"So Praxus is on very good terms with Vos?" Jazz asked, careful once more in his question but confident of the answer he was going to receive this time.

"Yes, the transition from colony to independent city went well. On many levels they were grateful to no longer have to rule a city of grounders," Evenway said easily. "It is a processor ache to try and govern such a different group."

"That I can imagine. What sort of things did you keep? Or adapt?" The dance was going smooth, despite having changed songs twice and the fact that both of them were otherwise occupied with an on-going conversation. Several looks were cast their way from mecha watching, more than a little curious at the continuous attachment of the two, and the fact the neither the Lord of Praxus or the Barasi seemed at all concerned.

"Our wing language has not changed much, and while we no longer have the code that demands a trine, triads are very common, particularly among the general population where it has a strong economic benefit. The Praxian love of speed and racing is a direct result of grounding high-speed flier code. Many of our rites, festivals and celebrations are either from Vos or trace their origins there."

"And some of them are your own as well, like the Crystal Festival?" Jazz asked. "Your entry in the matchi category was amazing."

"Yes, and thank you," Evenway smiled, his long sensor wings flicking in pride and pleasure. "If you remain as interested as you have been, you will be challenging me in a few centuries."

"If you and the others are willing to continue answering my questions, I might have a chance." Jazz answered, relaxing as it seemed Evenway was.

"We will," the mate of the Lord of Praxus smiled warmly. "It has long been established that methods are not to be held secret. The skill of the grower or carver is to be judged, not their tools or tricks. Not that it does not happen, but most arts frown on the idea of trade secrets. Cybertron has lost much to keeping such secrets. It is not an advantage to the people or the future to respect those who would hide their knowledge."

"Then I look forward to learning a lot more." Jazz said honestly. The music stopped, and this time Evenway stepped back to release Jazz.

The black and white mech smiled, then bowed smoothly. "I had a wonderful dance, my lord. Thank you."

"I look forward to our next dance," Evenway bowed in return, one equal to another, and they parted to find their mate's waiting for them.

Prowl extended a hand to Jazz. "The final dance?"

Even without knowing everything about this city, Jazz could pick up a preemptively protective warning when he witnessed it. This was quieter than most, more a warning that Prowl would protect him rather than a 'do not touch' that Jazz's sister was prone to.

"It is always yours." Jazz responded, his field warm for his bonded as he took Prowl's hand and moved close, the perfect picture of contented mate that was exactly where he belonged.

They moved smoothly through the last dance of the night, and Jazz remained on Prowl's arm, quiet and respectfully attentive through the next three joors of small talk and light business. It was an interesting look at Prowl's authority out in the wider world of noble politics. Prowl wasn't as smoothly social as many, but he was respected for his authority, and his sharp processor from what Jazz gathered.

Prowl would have made a stunningly brilliant business mech.

That last thought made Jazz smile privately, his field flickering with just the smallest hint of amusement. The business sector should be thanking Primus that his mate was called to other things, and not among their number, he decided firmly as the last of the small talk drew to a close, and all that was left was to thank their host and take their leave.

Driving home was far from calm. It was past midnight and Praxus was still very much alive, but it was the nightlife of the mecha who had no need to get up early the next orn. Overcharged pedestrians, often in ruckus groups and multiple Enforcer patrols were passed, but no one obstructed them on their way home. Not that their honor guard would have allowed it.

"So, how was your first major event?" Prowl asked as he entered their apartment.

"Long. Intense. Interesting. Educational. Exhausting." Jazz said, stepping in behind his mate and reaching out to touch Prowl, seeking the other's attention.

As soon Prowl turned Jazz pulled him close, forehelms touching. "Thank you."

Prowl's smile was tired, but honest as he drew Jazz close. "You are welcome, love."

The kiss Jazz offered was soft and sweet, full of affection and the deep joy in his field at the endearment. "Recharge, for you." He said firmly when it ended.

"And you," Prowl murmured, warmed by the kiss and his mate's field even as he moved towards the berthroom at the center of the apartment. "I saw you found the other bond-immigrants."

"I did. They were very welcoming." Jazz said, even as his field hesitated a little. After talking with Evenway, he almost felt as though he belonged nowhere. He was slightly more accepted than the other outsiders, but nowhere near considered 'one of us' by the Praxians.

"Yet something in that bothers you," Prowl prodded lightly as they got on the berth and began to settle.

"Not with them. Just where I fit in." Jazz said as he settled by his mate, molding himself snugly against Prowl to share the warmth of both frame and field. It was something about his mate that had surprised him at first, but he quickly came to enjoy how tactile and snuggly Prowl was in the berth.

Prowl hummed. "Yes. Praxus is not always a pleasant place for outsiders to live. Not all mecha are as tolerant as most priests."

"Found that out tonight." Jazz agreed, settling himself deeper before tilting his to really look Prowl in the optics. "Do I ask for too much?"

He felt his mate startle right out of his relaxed state.

"No," Prowl murmured with a stroke down Jazz's back. "No, you have been very respectful and undemanding. I'm very pleased with how well you are adapting. There will always be those that hate you for no reason other than being a non-Praxian resident."

"Mmmm." Jazz hummed and arched his back into the contact, accepting the touch and the comfort gratefully. "Heard a couple of times that you 'indulge me too much'. Just trying to figure out what they meant, or if it was me causing the problem."

Prowl huffed. "No, you were not the cause. Praxus has a very strict population control system. Every non-Praxian resident represents a Praxian sparkling that is not created. Indulging you likely referenced permitting you to be my mate so publicly, rather than hiding you away where the general population can not see what Praxus was forced to accept."

"That is what Evenway was saying." Jazz nuzzled against him, still relaxed and trying to get Prowl back into that same state. It felt good, and his mate needed the rest. "Would it be easier on you? Hiding me away?"

Prowl wasn't resisting and it wasn't long before Jazz had his systems humming softly. "Politically, yes, it would be. Personally, it would be much more difficult. Despite what most believe, I am a priest first, Praxian second. I _believe_ what I preach, that all sparks are equal in deserving respect and care. It is not right to confine a mecha for no crime other than what they were sparked to be."

"Starting to think I was sparked to be yours." Jazz said, his voice light but his field deeply content with the thought. "Like the idea too."

Compared to what he had been before, a tool in a never-ending struggle for rank, power, and status, Jazz was truly starting to think he was in some sort of paradise. Even if that paradise was mostly centered around a single mech.

"Though I doubt it, I do like how well we get along," Prowl murmured, his need to recharge catching up to him.

"Indulge me?" Jazz teased, backing up the words with a gentle kiss. "Recharge." He ordered softly.


	9. An Orn at the Zoo

"Jazz," Sarpresul Skysign greeted him when Jazz walked into the daycare center almost two metacycles after the Lords Ball, drawing his attention away from a most distinctive looking dark green non-Praxian youngling trying to play with a group and not having much success being invited to join. "I am very glad you came this orn. We have a guest from Ankmor Park," he motioned to the youngling Jazz had noticed.

Jazz's field teeked of welcome as he walked over and knelt on the youngling's level. "Hello. What's your designation?"

"I'm Hound," the youngling looked up with an easy smile and warmly welcoming field. "My creators are consulting at the zoo."

"Are they?" Jazz said with a smile. "Isn't today the orn we are going to the zoo?" He asked Skysign then.

"I believe so. Do you think you can handle two others?"

"I think so. Who else is going this orn?" Jazz asked as he stood again and looked around.

"Jumper and Sheerwind," Skysign pointed the two youngling grounders out, though Jazz knew both well enough to recognize them.

"I think I can handle it. Do I get a leash for Jumper?" Jazz asked, his field teeked of good humor and affection for the younglings that were to be in his care.

Skysign chuckled. "I believe there is one around if you need it."

"We're going to the zoo?" Hound squealed in unmitigated delight. "I get to go _without_ my creators?"

"Yes, you do. And with other younglings." Jazz smiled. The excitement and joy rolling off the youngling in waves was good to feel, and not a small part of the reason he enjoyed working in the care center, and with young mecha in general.

Hound _beamed_ and scrambled to his pedes in a motion that spoke of an impressive level of frame knowledge and what would likely be significant grace in maturity despite what would not be the most graceful of frames. Jazz had no doubt Hound would wear an adult all-terrain frame far more concerned with traction and survivability off world than most even knew existed.

Skysign smiled warmly and went to herd the other two younglings over so Jazz could take charge of the small group. "I asked that Third Moon be your shadow. He knows he is to help with the younglings if you need it, but otherwise will try to remain invisible to you."

"Thank you. Never too careful." Jazz said as he quickly scanned and locked all three younglings into his tracking system. Now he would not have to consciously search for them visually, or do a pointed scan for their energy signatures, which would make tracking them all much easier.

"Everyone ready to go?" Jazz asked, looking the three over.

"Yes!" Hound was bouncing on his pedes excitedly. Sheerwind nodded with a warm smile for Jazz. The quiet, compliant youngling reminded Jazz of Prowl in many ways, including a well-concealed sense of mischief. Jumper, very true to his designation, was bouncing in place. He was desperately trying to be good, looking forward to an outing that his creators couldn't normally afford.

"All right. In a line and let's go. Transport's waiting." Jazz said, herding them towards to the door. He knew the line was not going to last, but it was a good way to start at least. It would also let him test how well Hound followed directions. The Ankmor Park youngling was radiating curiosity and excitement, but someone had definitely drilled obedience into him. He also moved far more quietly than Jazz had expected.

Despite how much Jumper was vibrating in his effort to be good, Jazz got them all on the transport and nodded to Third Moon, who was in the driver's seat. Younglings settled and secured in their seats, the small transport powered up and moved smoothly from the temple grounds.

"What does everyone want to see today?" Jazz asked from his own seat, smiling.

"The cats!" Jumper said, bouncing in his seat and looking out the window at the same time.

"The frontier organics," Hound was quick to pipe up.

"The cyber raptors," Sheerwind said eagerly.

"So we are going to be all over the zoo today." Jazz said with a smile. "Because I want to visit the mecha-koi exhibit."

The out-loud recap was more for Third Moon's benefit and to keep all of the younglings entertained on the trip.

"Did you know that all the builds of mecha-koi were derived from the wild scavenger fish?" Hound said, eager to share his knowledge to what seemed like a group open to it.

"Were they? Do you know why they were created?" Jazz asked, curious and willing to focus on the new youngling for a few kliks as Sheerwind and Jumper discussed the cyberhounds, an exhibit that Sheerwind had seen and Jumper had not.

"As a decorative way to keep ponds clean," Hound gave a simple answer. "Nobles and cities commissioned ever more complex designs, including some that generated semi-random looks when they replicated."

"Interesting." Jazz praised, honestly proud of the youngling. They continued small talk of mecha-koi for a couple more breems until the transport slowed. "We're here." He announced, causing the three younglings to cheer and plaster their faceplates to the windows as best they could from their seats. Hound was the first to move when the transport parked, displaying a level of self-sufficiency well in advance of his listed age.

"All right everyone- reminder of the rules- you may look. You may ask questions. You need to stay in optic range of me at all times. Do not touch anything that is labeled as 'do not touch'. Does everyone understand?" Jazz asked, his voice firm and loud enough to carry over the excited sounds.

"Yes, Conjux Praesul," the two temple regulars responded quickly, almost covering Hound's "Yes, Jazz, Sir."

"All right. Let's go then." Jazz instructed, herding the three younglings off the transport and towards the entrance. He offered the mech at the ticket entrance the temple shanix ID.

"An outing?" The cheerful mecha smiled at the three excited young ones and their caretaker. "Welcome, Conjunx Praesul Jazz. Have a good time."

"Thank you." Jazz nodded, subspacing the chip again and addressing the younglings after they were through. "Gather around."

All three complied, with Jumper doing a fine impersonation of a youngling levitator, though he wasn't.

"All right. Here is the map of the zoo." Jazz spread it out. "Between the three of you, map out our route for the orn. Including where you want to stop for you snack and your afternoon energon. You have ten kliks to give me a plan. Okay?"

"Okay!" Jumper chirped, already pointing to the large cat exhibits much father in from the entryway where they currently were. "Here!"

Hound lit up the native aquatic exhibit and off-world organics display.

Sheerwind pointed out the cyber raptors and a display area that showed predatory mecha-avians. "We can have energon and watch the avians fly."

"There's a 'natural hunt' demonstration we can watch during our snack," Hound said hopefully.

"And here are the cyberhounds and the cyberwolves." Jumper pointed out, reaching around Hound and drawing a line with his finger along the map from the demonstration to the exhibit. "There last?"

Hound was still and silent for a long klik while the others pointed out other exhibits and got ever more excited. When he began to draw a path they nearly missed it until he was done. "If we follow this route, we can see everything."

"Everything?" Jumper repeated, craning his helm to follow the route that Hound had marked. "Really?"

"As long as we don't spend a joor at any one display," Hound nodded firmly.

"All right. Time's up. Let me see what you've got." Jazz announced, coming over to bend over the map and the younglings gathered around it.

"We're going with Hound's plan." Sheerwind said with only a hint of annoyance.

Jazz leaned down to study the route that had Hound had laid out, including the places that had been marked for their afternoon meal and for their snack. "Wow. You got everything in. Is everyone okay with this?"

"Yup!" Jumper was bouncing in place again, his optics bright and small sensor wing nubs vibrating. The chance to see everything was more than he had hoped for when he had been told that he had been one of the younglings selected for an outing this time.

"Definitely," Sheerwind nodded firmly, his sensor wing nubs twitching eagerly.

"All right. Let's get started then. First up is the off-world organics." Jazz said, smiling as the three younglings bounced ahead of him. They were all careful to stay in optic range, Hound and Sheerwind staying well on the marked path.

"Jumper! Not on the benches!" Jazz warned, firm as the youngling bounced up to walk along the seat of the one of the benches lining the walk.

The youngling cringed and jumped down, scurrying back to the other two. Hound was the next to bolt when the first organic animal enclosure came into view, but he didn't actually leave Jazz's line of sight.

The other two were not far behind him, and all three were pressed against the exterior barrier, staring in wonder at the large, colorful ground avians that were parading around the enclosure, occasionally letting out a loud squall that grated on Jazz's senses and made Jumper live up to his namesake the first few times it sounded.

"These are male dancing gembirds from Alquose Three," Jazz rattled off what the zoo's infonet broadcast told him. Not that any of it meant anything to him. He didn't even know where the Alquose system was, much less who controlled it.

"A really good collection," Hound was saying absently in his fixation on the bright keratin-based plumage. "Four of the sixteen sub-species. That's more than any other collection outside of Alquose."

"Can they fly?" Jumper asked, watching as two of the creatures flared and flapped each other, drawing the attention of a third.

"For short distances," Hound nodded before Jazz could even find the information. "They aren't very good at it, but they can get up in the trees or cross a small river."

"Cool." Jumper declared, already moving on to the next exhibit. "What's next?"

"A mated pair of langorian sabercats from Alquose Three," Jazz said, slightly more prepared this time. "It says the female is expected to produce creations next orn."

Hound was still, watching the two felines as large as a young mechling pace their enclosure along the division between their space and the flashy ruckus -causing avians they would happily hunt.

"All of the exotics we're going to see from the same place?" Jumper asked, actually addressing his question to Hound this time, though his optics remained locked on the large felines in the enclosure.

"No, each system has its own section within the organic exhibit," Hound answered eagerly. "They managed to acquire an example from each major animal type from Alquose. Some systems are even better represented, some not so well."

"You might like the next ones- Jumper, wait for the others. There is a reptilian exhibit." Jazz said with a smile as he started to herd the rest of them towards the next pen. The next joor went much the same as the younglings ooed and awed at all the strange forms organics came in. It finally came to an end with a building that housed the aquatic creatures from around Cybertron.

"Inside voices. No tapping on the containment walls." Jazz said with good humor as he directed the younglings into the building. The lighting was very dim, most of it coming from inside the tanks of thin oil where all sorts of swimmers moved about.

One of the first tanks to catch the younglings' attention was a large cylinder in the middle of the first room. The glowing exhibit slowly shifted through a series of light shades, illuminating the creatures with long tentacles floating inside.

"Whoa. Cool. What do they do?" Jumper asked, faced pressed against the containment system.

"They're hunters and scavengers." Jazz said, stepping up behind the three and watching the multishaped creatures floating through the oil. "They will eat scrap if they can't get anything else. They grow very quickly by our standards."

Behind him he heard the not-quiet-enough whispers questioning who would be so desperate as to hire an undocumented immigrant worker to watch over such nice looking sparklings. By now Jazz was used to the comments and whispers, and he just focused on the younglings. He tried to make the experience somewhat educational, asking them questions about the scavengers and then directing them to the next room with the suggestion of the larger predators waiting there.

"Yes, Conjunx Praesul," Hound said clearly, earning a funny look from Jumper and very startled flicks of adult sensor wings from behind Jazz as the whispers abruptly stopped with a distressed sound from one of them.

Jazz shared a subtle smile with the youngling as they moved on into the next room and he pointed out the large predators in the observation tank and distracted them from looks the group was still getting. They slowly worked their way outside, where the domestic mecha fish were in open ponds and shallow steams accessible to the visitors.

Jazz knelt down at the edge of one of the ponds, smiling in amusement as the mecha-koi, some as large as the younglings, came up to investigate his fingers as he teased the surface of the oil.

"Oh, look!" Jumper said, pointing to large, slow moving creature in the bottom of the pond. "What is it?"

"A painted alloy-shell," Jazz told him smoothly, keeping an extra optic on the excitable youth. While this space was carefully designed to not be dangerous even if a sparkling fell in, it was likely to end the trip early if one of them did.

Hound soon had both of the other younglings distracted as he pointed out other inhabitants of the pool and explained how they all worked together. "If we keep going, sometimes they have one out for mecha to pet too. Can we go see?"

Jazz smiled, hiding his amusement at the eager, almost pleading looks that were directed at him and nodded as he stood. "Yes, we can go see what they have in the petting section."


	10. A Life Too Short

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tissue and minor character death warning here.

Jazz was contentedly working in one of the crystal gardens, sanding down a crystal that needed pruning back before it overgrew the path to the point that it interfered with the passage of visitors. The soft rasp of his pruning block over the crystal surface was soothing, and Jazz was lost in what he was doing to the point that when his comm went off it was an effort to not jump and damage his work.

A frown crossed his formerly peaceful features as he cross-referenced the caller and the time. His mate should be calling new sparks right now, not him. Concerned, he answered. ::Prowl? What's wrong?::

::A very weak spark was called and entered the frame before I could catch it. I know we have not discussed this, but you do so well with youths ... do you wish to care for this one while it functions?:: Prowl's tone was unsettled, almost disturbed. ::There are many others who will take care of it if you do not.::

::I will.:: There was no hesitation in the reply. Jazz was not sure what he was getting himself into, but his mate had called him. There had to be some reason for that, and he wasn't about to disappoint if he could help it. And the way Prowl sounded- he had never heard his calm and confident mate like that before. ::Should I come now?::

There was a longer pause then there really should have been if Prowl had already thought things out. ::I will meet you in our quarters. Have you cared for a new sparkling before?::

::Not one this young.:: Jazz said, already tracking down Silversheen to inform the priest that Prowl needed him. The exchange took less than a klik, and Jazz was on his way back inside.

::Any help would be appreciated, until I'm sure what I'm doing.::

::Lifeline is coming,:: Prowl responded, his tone smooth once more. ::She will answer any questions you have. Her staff's primary duty is to ensure first time creators know all they need to for the sparkling and family to thrive.::

::Good.:: Jazz relaxed a little himself at the answer. He had met the Archipresul before, and rather liked her. ::Might keep her on speed-dial for the first few orns, even.:: He added, teasing but more than a little serious as he as the lift came to a halt and he stepped into the quarters he shared with his mate. Unsurprisingly, he got there first, though the lift was already headed back down to answer the summons of the two priests approaching. He stepped back from the door and looked around the entry room, wondering how his functioning was about to change once more as he waited.

It wasn't long before the lift opened for Prowl and Lifeline, the smaller femme carrying a well-constructed standard sized sparkling protoform in her arms. It was warm with the colors of life, but not moving much.

"Jazz, this is Drafter," Prowl introduced him as dim blue optics lit up to look at Jazz.

"Hello Drafter." Jazz said, smiling at the sparkling and stepping forward, his field reaching out in warm welcome and with the promise of safety thick. It met one that was dim, weak even for its age, but full of curiosity and warm welcome.

"Hi Jazz." The tiny being spoke very carefully around the clicks and chirps that came more naturally at this stage of development.

Lifeline smiled warmly and gently offered the well-formed sparkling to him. "I understand you have cared for sparklings and do well, but never for one so young."

"I haven't." Jazz admitted, taking the sparkling with ease, cradling the sparkling against his chest and wrapping him the warmth of his field. "What special things do I need to know?"

"You will need to keep a very close watch on his energy levels. They do not process energon well and do not have a reserve tank or energy storage yet. You will also need to be careful of how much he consumes. Some sparklings will drink until it is all the way up to their oral cavity," she warned. "You will know if he is that type with his first meal. If you have questions, you are always welcome to comm our office. There is someone on duty at all times."

"Thanks." He doubled checked the comm code, making sure it was securely filed and on his speed access list.

"Ready to go look around Drafter?" Jazz asked, nuzzling the sparkling's helm gently. The sparkling gave an affirmative chirp and happy squeal before Jazz looked at Prowl. "We can work out care arrangements tonight?"

"Yes," Prowl agreed and stepped close to give Jazz a soft kiss. "Thank you. I will be back tonight."

"We'll be here." Jazz said with a smile, chirping cheerfully at Drafter as he turned away, excited.

* * *

It looked like a normal evening when Prowl arrived back at the quarters he shared with his mate, energon waiting on the side table by his favorite chair and Jazz sprawled on his favorite lounge, datapad in hand.

"Reading on sparkling care?" Prowl asked as he settled into his chair with a grateful sound and allowed his optics to drift off for a moment.

"Yeah. Guilty as charged." Jazz said as he laid the datapad aside and stood. Quiet pedes took him around behind Prowl's chair, and gentle fingers worked their way into Prowl's neck and shoulder joints. "Drafter is already down for the night. I put him in our berth, for now."

Prowl simply groaned in pleasure, his sensor wings giving a tiny twitch that matched and relaxed into his mate's care. After a long klik he managed to organize himself enough to speak again. "Do you understand what a weak spark is?"

"Not really." Jazz admitted softly. "There was nothing like that in Kalis." He added, letting Prowl draw his own conclusions. 

"Even if there was, I doubt you would have encountered it," Prowl sighed, the soft sound more of pleasure at his mate's touch than any assessment of the other city. "They would never leave the temple. Not even here where they live out their time are they really seen by anyone not involved in their care. I know several cities terminate them immediately for the failure they represent. Not all Barasi are as secure in their position as I am."

"Terminate- what happened? What is special about Drafter?" Fingers continued along Prowl's wings.

"His spark is far too weak to support his frame for long. The standard explanation is that the priest who called it failed in their duty twice. Once for summoning such an inappropriate spark, and then a second time for not capturing it before it took the frame," Prowl said wearily. "He has a very small microbot's spark. He is unlikely to see his fourth vorn. It may be much less."

"And is the standard explanation the correct one?" Jazz asked softly, his field full of love and support for his mate, and not judging in the least. He was also quietly processing the information that he had just learned of the small creation that had been placed in his arms that orn.

"I did not call the wrong spark," Prowl was firm in that. "I asked for exactly what I should have. The All-Spark did not grant what I asked for," he slumped slightly even as his sensor wings pressed into the touch. "It happens. We do not know why. I _should_ have captured it before it reached the frame. That failure is mine."

"Why did you call me?" Jazz asked, wanting to ask why his mate had not, but not wanting to prod at something that he suspected caused Prowl great pain.

"Tradition, and you have said nothing but of how much you enjoy working with the youths. It was my mistake, thus it is my responsibility to deal with it. I am lucky that there are many priests who enjoy caring for sparklings, even those they know do not have long to live. If you had not wished the burden, another would have gladly accepted it, and the boon they would earn for it."

"It's not a burden. And a boon?" Jazz finished working on his mate's back and reached for Prowl's energon, offering it to his mate.

"Thank you," Prowl's field reached out to caress Jazz as he accepted the cube and sipped it, then gave a pleasured sound as the sweetly acidic liquid energy slid across his glossa. "They are doing me a favor. They have the right to ask for one in return."

Jazz hummed in understanding as he went back around and settled with his own energon. "What kind of things do mecha ask for? Or are you allowed to tell me?"

"I can tell you," Prowl laughed softly. "Travel vouchers, stopping a sparkling application or approving one ahead of their place, shanix, speaking on behalf of someone." His expression changed to a grimace. "Even dictating my vote. While I am not legally obligated to comply, refusing a properly asked for boon does harm my reputation."

"No worries there." Jazz promised, rising to kiss his mate gently. "And the mecha that requested Drafter? Will they get another creation instead?"

"Yes. The temple provided a new frame and I called the spark. I was lucky that it wasn't a specialized frame. That could have taken a vorn or more to replace, plus compensation and other expenses. This triad was willing to accept the frame we had to offer for a second try this orn, and were gracious in accepting my apology."

"I'm glad. About keeping him here-" Jazz began as he settled down once more. "What do you want me to do? If he's going to bother you I can take him down to my space. Take an orn or two to make the place sparkling friendly."

As keen as he wasn't on the idea, Jazz had to offer.

"Jazz ... the reason I have not cared for previous ones is that I do not have time, not because I dislike sparklings," Prowl's sensor wings lifted slightly in distress. "I cannot provide the attention a sparkling needs to be happy, much less thrive. I welcome him here, since I know you can provide the attention I cannot."

"I know you like them." Jazz countered the distress instantly. "But this is where you rest and recharge when you have time. You don't rest enough anyway. Now there's a sparkling here."

"I will be fine," Prowl promised, relaxing his frame and going back to sipping his energon, cupping the cube in both hands. "I do get more recharge than it appears," he paused, catching Jazz's quickly concealed objection. "Though likely not as much as my frame would like. I was designed to operate on far less recharge and in far higher stress than anything I have experienced in the temple."

Jazz conceded the point, even if the concession was given grudgingly. "Then we can adjust to him being here. I'll get his own berth set up for him, at least. Where do you want it?"

Prowl considered the issue, both from the sparkling's needs and their own. "How comfortable are you with interfacing in other than the berthroom?"

"Fine. The washrack was _fun_." Jazz said a smile, reminding his bonded of the first time that he had Prowl bound and had put on a show for the mech.

Prowl smiled slightly in return, remembering the incident very fondly. "Then it should be in the berthroom where you can be there if he needs attention. A first stage sparkling does need to be fed at least once during the normal recharge cycle."

"I know." Jazz agreed. "He might even need it twice, since I'm going to have to watch him. He's a guzzler, given a choice."

Prowl hummed. "I have heard that about many of the weak ones. It is regrettable that Primus will not answer my questions about why weak sparks come, or if he has, he has told the Prime not to pass the knowledge on."

"Your questions?" Jazz repeated, finishing his cube of energon and stretching out on the lounge, one hand reaching out in invitation to his mate.

Prowl purred and joined him, snuggling in but thoughtful. "Ever since I learned they existed, I wondered why. When I was studying to become an archipresul I witnessed it happen and was certain it was not by accident. There was a reason a spark too small for the offered frame was sent. Primus does not make mistakes and now I knew the priest summoning the spark had not either. Primus had overridden the request. I have asked which, if either, was correct so we could alter policies based on his intentions."

"What would you change about the policies?" Jazz asked, shifting around in his mate's arms so that their chests were pressed together.

"If it was to give the sparklings more time in a frame to deal with something from their prior functioning, then nothing. If it was to teach the mecha who requested the sparkling something, I would begin to insist that they accept what Primus gave them, care for it and learn," Prowl let out a soft sound that was as much frustration with not knowing as pleasure at having Jazz with him. "Given the lack of answers and the behavior issues many display, I tell myself that it is for the sparks to learn or recover from their prior functioning."

"That is an interesting dilemma." Jazz agreed, seeing his mate's point easily and wondering himself why Prowl was given no answers to something that seemed rather vital when viewed from that angle. "Drifter is a guzzler, but other than that he just seems like a sweet, gentle sparkling. 'Course, he's less than an orn old, too."

"Starvation and violence are the two most common causes of deactivation outside of Praxus," Prowl said quietly. "In adults, chronic hunger is the most common reason to guzzle."

The frame against his went stiff for a moment, then Jazz forced himself to relax. "He won't be hungry here. And he won't need to be afraid either." He vowed, the words quiet but full of steel.

"Agreed," Prowl wrapped his arms around his mate. "It is why I have always protected them here in the temple. If Primus would not answer my question, I will assume it is because I will do the right thing without guidance."

"You will." Jazz assured him, lifting his helm to nuzzle Prowl affectionately. A sweet kiss was given in return. "Ready to settle in for recharge?"

"Mmm, yes," Prowl decided, though he made no move to get up until after Jazz did.

Jazz laughed as he got to his pedes, offering Prowl a hand up and stealing another kiss once Prowl was standing. There was a pause, a moment where Jazz was still and very quiet. "Love you." He finally offered, the softly uttered confession a bold leap into the unknown.

Prowl froze and tension rippled across his entire frame and field, which flared with distress. Yet the Praxian lowered his helm to rest their forehelms together in the intimate touch of this city and quickly settled. "I care for you Jazz. Thank you for honoring me with your love."

"It's a start." Jazz smiled, accepting the truth with ease and grace. To have someone care for him on a personal level was almost more than he had hoped for in what was rapidly becoming his former function.

"Yes, it is a start," Prowl relaxed when his lesser investment was not taken badly. "A good start. You are a good mech, Jazz."

A gentle helm shake of denial did not cover the flare of warmth in Jazz's field before the darker mech paused. "Ready to move? Drafter going to be wanting a meal soon."

Prowl hummed an affirmative and reluctantly lead his mate to their berth knowing that a nuzzle and kiss was as far as it would go. He'd gotten used to an agreeable berthmate being there whenever he was inclined entirely too quickly for his comfort, even as his conscious was soothed knowing he did care for Jazz, and Jazz cared for him.

The walk to the berthroom was short, Jazz moving away from Prowl's side and up the berth as soon as they entered. Prowl could feel his field reaching out first to brush along the small form stretched out in the middle of the berth. Dim blue optics came online slowly, looking up to find a Jazz smiling.

"Creator?" A sleepy, soft voice asked, the helm nuzzling into the hand Jazz offered and the question making Jazz smile all the wider.

"Yup. Ready for some energon?"

"Energon!" Drafters optics grew a little brighter, the sparkling scrambling a little clumsily across the well padded surface to be swept up in Jazz's arms.

With a laugh Jazz settled them both on the berth, Drafter on his lap, and extracted a small, pre-portioned cube of sparkling grade energon from his subspace. A single quick motion broke the seal, and Jazz offered it to the sparkling.

Drafter almost fell over in his eagerness to take the cube, trying to pull it from Jazz's hands as he lifted it to his mouth.

"Slow." Jazz corrected him gently, forcing the sparkling to lower the cube between each few mouthfuls, his patience seemingly endless. "It's all for you, I promise. No one is going to take it here. Do you remember Prowl?" He nodded in the direction of the red Praxian, trying to distract Drafter just a little.

Drafter nodded around his next sip, resisting only a little as Jazz gently forced him to lower the cube again. "Yes. Who are you?" He asked once he had swallowed, the question clearly directed to Prowl.

"Prowl," he offered his simplest designation form, one usually reserved for the most intimate settings, but also the only one a sparkling was likely to be able to manage. "I am Jazz's mate."

Drafter considered this as he sipped on his energon, distracted enough that he didn't fight Jazz's firm rationing of his intake speed.

"Jazz- Creator." He finally said. "Prowl Creator's mate." He stumbled a little over the glyph, trying to work through the layers of meaning with his still limited experience and understanding.

"Prowl - Creator?" Drafter finally asked, unsure in his sparkling logic as he snuggled back against Jazz's chest, the cube clutched in his small hands almost gone.

Prowl had to think about that for a bit, then he nodded. "Yes, I am your creator as well."

"Prowl Creator." Drafter chirped contentedly, releasing the empty cube reluctantly as his helm came to rest against Jazz's chest. "Jazz Creator." He said quietly, the words full of warm affection as his optics dimmed with the onset of recharge once more.

"Yes," Prowl reached over to stroke Drafter's helm, then over his spark. "Recharge well, little one."

With a sleepy warble the sparklings optics when dark and his field leveled into subtle mix of safe and content feelings.

Jazz hummed softly for a few more kliks, until he was sure that Drafter was deep in recharge once more. "Well?"

"He has bonded with you well and you seem to have a deft hand in controlling him," Prowl smiled at his mate. "He's lucky to have you care for him."

Jazz ducked his helm, covering the gesture under the premise of nuzzling Drafter. "What sort of recharge arrangement do you want?"

"I hold you, and you hold him," Prowl decided easily. "I rather like having you next to me still."

Jazz hummed in agreement as he settled down on the berth, Drafter comfortably in his arms and his back to Prowl. The warmth of his mate's frame settling against his back shifted the hum to a happy purr of contentment, Jazz's field spreading out to encompass both mecha on the berth with him as they all settled into a content recharge.

* * *

Even though he was never there, Prowl was well aware of the schedule Jazz kept with Drafter. After nearly a decaorn and a half he was becoming concerned for his naturally social and active mate. It was a very long time for Jazz to be in seclusion. So he'd arranged to get off half a joor early and all but snuck into his own home to wrap his arms around Jazz's waist from behind, kissed his neck and hummed a welcome with his field as much as his vocalizer just after Drafter had been put into his sparkling berth for recharge.

The surprise, quickly followed by pure delight, made the effort worth it as Jazz twisted in arms and pulled Prowl close for a very deep and suggestive kiss that was returned eagerly.

"How are you feeling?" Prowl asked with a purr when their mouths finally parted.

"Like some sparkling-free time with my mate would be very, very welcome." Jazz replied, lips playing gently over Prowl's neck cables." I _just_ put him down."

"I know," Prowl purred and tipped his helm back to offer his mate better access while his hands moved along Jazz's back and sides. "Where do you want me?"

"Mmmm." Jazz hummed as he thought, glossa snaking out to tease deeper between the cables. "Where's the best place to not wake Drafter when you take me good and hard and I call out your designation?"

"The martial arts room," Prowl gave his lover a grin. "You can look down at the gardens and out at the city as I drive into you."

"Lead on lover, lead on." Jazz grinned in return, his hand already wandering down to tease over his mate's spike cover, palm rubbing the warm metal as fingers teased the edges.

"If you don't move your hand, we won't make it," Prowl chuckled and nudged Jazz to move, but made no real effort to stop the teasing.

"But you're so much _fun_ when your riled up." Jazz purred, the soft click of his valve cover sliding back as he danced away in the direction of the martial arts room, just a step ahead of easy grabbing reach and a show all by himself. The roar of his mate's engine and the heavy beat of his pedes were both reward enough. He only had to shorten his steps a little bit to allow Prowl to catch him when they reached the largely undecorated, empty space where Prowl practiced his fighting katas.

The mock struggle that followed was more teasing foreplay than resistance as Jazz nipped and licked at Prowl's neck, pulling his mate close instead of pushing him away. It was an enjoyable game, one that Jazz had become ever more fond of since he'd understood just how _hot_ chasing someone made Prowl. The mech was all fire when he got his knee between Jazz's and pushed his way in, parting the unresisting limbs until he sank into that slick, welcoming heat with a growling groan.

It didn't hurt matters either that Jazz had missed this.

He loved Drafter, the sparkling a ray of light in his new existence.

But there were some needs the sparkling couldn't fill. The love and care of an equal. And the physical affection between mates.

"Yes." He moaned in reply, hips rolling up to grind their interface arrays together. He had been slick and ready before they had ever hit the training room, and now all he wanted was _more_. He indulged greedily knowing that Prowl was more than happy and enjoying this just as much. A sharp bite to his neck was a wonderful reminder that his mate had come to trust him with this aspect of his nature that was hidden from most of his own caste, even if it wasn't a true secret.

Prowl grunted with each thrust, hands pinning Jazz's wrists down as he surrendered completely to the base drives of his deep coding.

Jazz squirmed beneath him, the motion a trick he'd learned that felt like struggling to Prowl's hold, but actually allowed Jazz to push into every thrust. This was Prowl. 

This was _his_ Prowl.

That thought was enough to pull a sharp cry from him with the next bite, his field rushing out with the charge to push all of the pleasure pulsing through his frame back into his mate. He felt Prowl's arousal, felt how fast the charge was building, how intensely _good_ this was for the Praxian and reveled in it.

The pace changed, shifting from long, deep, forceful strokes to a shorter, faster grinding as Prowl came close to his limit.

Not one to deny pleasure, especially pleasure shared so willingly, Jazz found himself denied his usual trump card of using his mate's sensor wings to drive Prowl to overload. Caught in his mate's strong grasp, he was forced to find another way to drive Prowl into a release so strong that it forced Jazz into his own overload.

A twinge in his neck provided the perfect inspiration, and with a challenging growl Jazz left his helm to find a main line in Prowl's neck and nipped it sharply.

His mate gave a snarl, a frightening tone to anyone who wasn't deep in the lust-saturated field and slammed his hips forward, grinding against Jazz as he roared his overload and hot, crackling transfluid surged into Jazz's valve. It was Jazz's goal and then some, his mate's designation lost on lips among a surge of static as the force driving through him triggered an overload intense enough to wipe out reason and awareness.

He came to with a dim awareness that he was still being pounded into, hard, deep, from behind and was now upright. Blurred vision cleared, granting him the promised view of garden below and city beyond through the one way window that took up most of the exterior wall of the training room. "Too good to me, lover." He moaned, a field full of bliss reaching back to engulf Prowl.

"You're good to me," Prowl rumbled in reply. While still high on his chase-catch-face drive, Prowl was still coherent enough to know who he was with and how to make the pleasure surge for both of them. That Jazz honestly enjoyed this side of his mate, encouraging him to come out and play often, only made the shared pleasure all the better sweeter.

"Wonderful." Jazz offered, freed hands coming forward to rest against the smooth window and allow him some leverage to direct back into his mate's thrusts. It felt _so_ good, the slide of that spike inside him, the grunts of his mate near his sensor horn, it was incredible that this exact same position, this same act, only a vorn ago would have been pain and humiliation.

"Feel so good," Prowl moaned, low and deep against Jazz's sensor horn as he picked up the pace of his thrusts. Each jerk of his hips forward spread Jazz wide and rubbed against even the deepest of surface sensor notes. The tiny zaps of electricity back and force inside their frames drew shuddering moans and twitches.

"And yours." Jazz reminded him, a subtle blend of teasing and truth in the fact that Jazz hadn't felt the need or desire to go in search of anyone but his mate to care for him since they had bonded, despite Prowl's belief that he wouldn't be enough for his bonded.

A taste of this, of the care and control Prowl had even when letting go, had become more addictive to Jazz than the physical sensation spreading through him now. Not that the surging pleasure wasn't addictive in its own right. His next effort to speak was reduced to a moan when Prowl began to thrust a little faster and harder, making no apologies for wanting his pleasure quickly and intense tonight.

There were only a few more thrusts before Prowl's intent shifted to the short, sharp thrusts that drew a grunt from him, the charge spiking within him until he roared his release and flooded Jazz's primed and sensor rich valve with the thick charge. 

Once was pleasure, two was bliss as Jazz keened and shuddered in his mate's strong arms. There was no concern or holding back with Prowl, only trust and a willing release. It was intense on a level a purely physical release could not manage, and they both settled into the warmth of the afterglow, content and sated.

"I really must manage this more often," Prowl rumbled as they sank to the floor, still connected and with frames throbbing with cooling pleasure. "How are you holding up?"

"And I will encourage you shamelessly." Jazz sighed as he leaned back against his mate, his frame softening to form around Prowl's and he turned his helm to nuzzle his mate. "And starting to go a little crazy. I was thinking about taking Drafter out for a bit tomorrow. Down to one of the gardens, then maybe to the care center for a bit to look around if he still has any energy left."

"No," Prowl's tone was as firm as Jazz had ever heard. "He is not to be seen in public areas. You may take him to a garden, but only those closed to the general public."

"Not to be- Why?" Jazz asked, his frame locking up and his switching from wonderfully relaxed to clearly distressed in a nanoklik.

"Beyond the social repercussions of being seen with _your_ sparkling that will abruptly disappear?" Prowl gently withdrew his spike so Jazz could face him. "Weak sparks do not legally exist. They have no status or protections outside the priesthood."

"But why? Prowl, other than his weakness, he's _normal_. He's bright, curious, happy, smart. If he's only here for a little while, shouldn't he be allowed to _live_ as much as he can?" Jazz argued. "Weak spark or not, he's still a _spark_."

"Live yes, but within the temple," Prowl said firmly. "There are one thousand eight hundred and ninety six priests in this temple. He will not be lacking in contact if you allow it."

"And the whole other world that he'll never get to see outside of these walls?" Jazz demanded. He tried to hide the fact that he was starting to bend a little, that his spark was crying for the little one that it had quickly come to consider it's own.

"Will not be missed unless you make him miss it," Prowl pointed out. "Three vorns, likely less. There is no reason he would wonder about it. Even if he does, he is not allowed. It is simply how things are. Entertain him within the temple's seclusion."

"It not fair. Not to him." Jazz snapped, pulling back and angry at the differences. No matter what was available in the temple, there was still so much that a sparkling should be able to experience. Some things that Jazz had been denied himself as a little one. Some things that he simply wanted to share with Drafter. All of it now theoretically impossible.

"It may not be fair, but it is how things are," Prowl said gently. "Please do not punish him for a reality he has no need to know of."

"If-if you say so." The reply was soft and painful, Jazz giving in when everything in him wanted to fight a battle he knew he would not win.

"This is how it is," Prowl murmured, reaching out caress Jazz's face. "I must choose my political battles. This is one where an internal decree accomplished most of what a protracted and potentially very ugly public legal battle may or may not. He will live, have a good existence and extinguish when it is time and no sooner."

Jazz nodded, still not happy but understanding at least as he climbed to his pedes. "It's time for me to go give him some fuel." He explained, heading for washrack. What little bit of his closely held field Prowl could teek as he walked away was numb and exhausted.

Prowl sighed and stood as he made an internal memo to not do this to his mate again. The boons he gave were not worth the hurt he'd caused asking Jazz to do this. He followed Jazz to the washrack, mulling over how to make this better.

The silence between them as Jazz wiped away the evidence of their recent activities was painful. Gradually his field smoothed into something more neutral that would not upset Drafter when he went to wake him.

His attention refocused, Jazz mostly ignored Prowl. The energon was in his subspace, and an internal note reminded him to do an extra check on the sparkling's energy levels. Even if it really couldn't, Drafter's spark was trying to grow, and monitoring the drainage on his systems was one of the warnings that had been included in the packet of information that Jazz had been given.

"I can ask another to care for him," Prowl's offer was awkward but honest. "I do not wish this to hurt you so much."

"No." Jazz didn't even have to think about the answer. He wouldn't do that, not to his creation. "I wouldn't do that to him. I'll make it. Giving him to someone else, to a sparkling that is as good as abandoning him."

Prowl nodded in understanding and didn't hide that he was proud of Jazz for the choice. "Lifeline's office is a good resource for you in this. They know everything for a sparkling to do in the temple. They've helped many weak sparks enjoy their time here. You can still take him to the gardens, just not the large public one."

"I'll find a quiet one tomorrow." Jazz agreed. "And maybe I'll call the office during one of his recharge cycles."

He pulled a sparkling cube from his subspace and finally looked Prowl in the optics. "Coming?" It wasn't an apology, but it was an attempt at a start in sealing the rift that still hurt.

"Yes," Prowl reached to caress his mate's face. "You are a good creator, wanting what you do for him."

His mate sighed softly, finally accepting the comforting touch. "Just wish it could be more." Jazz finally murmured.

"I know," Prowl said and followed Jazz from the washrack. "We do our best with what we have."

The silence that followed was much more comfortable. The familiar routine of Jazz waking Drafter, the sparkling sometimes not even coming full awake as he sipped his energon before falling back into recharge. Tonight Jazz did not return him to his own small berth, but settled on the much larger one, the small frame in his arms. Prowl made no comment, no objection even with his field as he settled on the berth next to Jazz.

"He will have a good existence," Prowl said as he relaxed and began to shut down for recharge. His arm across his mate, their creation recharging on his mate's chest, Prowl felt good, no matter how stressful the last breem had been.

Already three quarters of the way into recharge himself, Jazz simply snuggled closer, a soft "Thank you." escaping him as his optics dimmed and his field settled.

* * *

When Drafter was just under a vorn old Jazz could already see the weakness impacting his orn to orn existence, but the sparkling didn't know he was different, and Jazz could see a tiny advantage of keeping him isolated from his agemates. With only adult priests to judge by and their reactions carefully schooled to make him think nothing of only being able to run about for a few breems at a time, Drafter had no clue he was weak, or different, or anything less than perfectly normal. The adults he interacted with treated him well. He never complained of being bored. He never teeked as unhappy when someone else watched him for a joor or so while Jazz went to rest with his mate mid-orn.

Small trips around the temple kept him interested and satisfied his sparkling curiosity. And major event like today, with the promise of spending the entire orn in one of the small meditation gardens while a temple crew tended to it, were adventures.

Delighted giggles drew Jazz's attention from the crystal he was pruning, and he couldn't help but smile. Drafter was down on his hands and knees at the edge of a crushed crystal path, his face mere centimeters from the harmless but thoroughly fascinating glow beetle that had wandered into the garden.

This particular large variety was common in Praxus, their exoskeletons emitting only a limited range of colors and rarely lighting up unless startled. What they were known for was their large size, growing to almost double the width and three times the length of most varieties of beetle. The fact that they were passive and generally slow moving creatures made them the perfect distraction for young creatures who didn't understood enough to look but not touch.

It didn't slip past Jazz's notice that the others in the area, whether working or enjoying the space, kept half an optic on the sparkling as well. As taboo as it was to take a weak spark outside the security of the temple, inside there were a thousand and some mecha delighted to have him around. It was a weird mix to Jazz, but he was growing to enjoy having such a large extended family that, for the most part at least, treated him and his creation like any other resident. At this point Jazz knew who to avoid, who was fine so long as they weren't already upset and who genuinely did not see his frame as anything but a shell for the spark, and all sparks were equal.

It was the latter ones who had made his transition the easiest, and had taught him that so much of what he had known before was wrong. Frame type had always meant little to him, but the idea sparks were equal had been new, novel, and not something that he was sure he had really begun to understand until Drafter had come into his functioning.

It made him grateful, once more, that his mate was one who believed it so strongly. What would life be like if one of those who didn't honestly view sparks as equals had been Barasi when he arrived? He knew without a doubt that he'd still be in the thrall of the slave coding, and he now understood it really was slave coding. He'd met and now understood the difference that had so horrified Prowl at first. Praxians used adaptive coding to smooth the way for second creations. They used conformance coding, the strongest that was legal in the city, within a select few functions where order and obedience was absolutely critical. What Jazz had thought was normal left nothing to free will. It didn't even punish disobedience; it forced obedience on a very base level.

It still sent a small shudder through him when he thought about it now. The very few times that he had still wished for the coding he knew had really been a wish for an easy way out. Being forced to stand up and work through the situation had made him stronger, even if it had been painful at the time. And just one more thing that he owed Prowl and Prowl refused to be owed for.

Realizing how long he had been distracted in though Jazz looked over to check on his creation, and set his tool aside when he finally spotted the sparkling. Worn out by his focused observation, Drafter had stretched out and fallen into recharge on the path. While very cute to look at, the sparkling was clearly in the way.

As Jazz retrieved the small frame he was faced again with how fragile the small being in his arms was. At almost a vorn, Drafter should have at least doubled in size. Instead every ounce of energy the small frame consumed was put towards powering the sharp processor and trying to maintain the weakening spark that powered it all.

Sadness and acceptance rippled through Jazz as he settled Drafter on the small sleeping pad he brought with him. Tucked away under some shade, the sparkling could recharge until he woke on his own or until it was time for Jazz to wake him to fuel again. 

* * *

The suite was quiet when Prowl returned late that orn. It was a more normal state of things lately, and one of the first real tell-tale signs that another major change was coming.

Walking into the library he was greeted with the sight of Jazz reclining on a lounge, Drafter in a deep recharge on his chest centered over his spark. The sparkling still was no larger than when Prowl had first placed him in Jazz's arms almost three vorns ago.

"Your energon's not ready." Jazz informed him softly, looking up to greet Prowl. "He went into recharge and I didn't want to move him..."

"Good," Prowl walked to them and caressed Jazz's sensor horn. "What would you like tonight?"

Jazz leaned into the touch with a soft sound of contentment. "Just my usual. I'm going to have to wake him up for an extra fueling tonight. Not that it is going to interrupt him that much. He rarely lasts more than a joor without needing a nap."

Prowl gave an understanding hum and went to make their evening energon in silence. He returned and offered the cube to Jazz, then settled on the lounge by Jazz's helm. They sipped in silence, Prowl caressing Jazz's sensor horn, before the Barasi spoke. "He will return to Primus soon."

"I know." Jazz admitted, his spark flaring painfully at the thought. "Prowl, do you know how he'll go? Will you send him back?"

"It depends on his wishes, and yours. I can send him, or he can fade on his own," Prowl said gently, his touch never faltering. "It is generally easier of I send him. The final time of being in a frame that is no longer responsive is not pleasant."

"Rather you send him." Jazz admitted. "Selfish, maybe, but I'd like him to know that he was loved and cared for until the end."

"Then unless he objects, that is how it will be. It would be most unusual if he did so," Prowl said gently. "Have you decided when it will happen?"

"No." Another painful admission. "I don't want to let him go. I don't want to take any living from him that he has. But I don't want to hold him so long that functioning here is a burden instead of a joy. And I just- I don't know."

The very last bit was a painful whisper, and a plea for help.

Prowl hummed gently, a soothing tone and field. "When he no longer has the strength to wake for his energon, it is time."

Jazz thought about that, turning it over in his processor, before nodding. "He'll still know what is going on?"

"When I plug into him he certainly will," Prowl said gently. "He is unlikely to be aware of much when he is in recharge, though even I do not know just how much self awareness a spark has within a frame. We know there is some, and that awareness never recharges. That shutdown is purely a physical need."

"Just as long as he will know." Jazz repeated, tension easing some as he finally started to sip the sweet energon his mate had brought for him.

Prowl nodded and sipped his own acidic energon as he continued to lightly rub Jazz's sensor horn. "You may find it helpful to speak with a grief councilors, priest or otherwise, when the time comes."

"I'm sure I'll do something." Jazz agreed, though he gave no real hint to what he had planned, or if he had anything planned at all.

Prowl fell silent, knowing that what he had to offer would be of no real comfort to a mech that was still dubious about the existence of Primus. His way of dealing with grief did not even work for some priests. He sipped his energon, rubbed his mate's sensor horn and settled in for what could be an entire night in this position. Likely to be the first of many such nights until the weak spark was no longer able to wake the frame.

* * *

Jazz waited quietly, Drafter cradled against his chest but not really aware any more. It had been a struggle when he had been told that he was allowed to be there at the end if he wanted to. He had almost not come, but he wasn't going to leave Drafter now. Even if Drafter's processors weren't aware anymore, his spark was. Jazz was sure of that. That spark could feel Jazz's field, knew who he was and that the sparkling was not alone, not unwanted, even now.

"Do you wish to hold him?" Prowl's soft voice broke Jazz's reverie. He hadn't even heard his mate come in.

"If it won't interfere, yes." Jazz murmured. "Thank you...for making time this orn. I know I've been putting it off."

"It will not interfere," Prowl promised as he gently plugged into the immature systems. His field reached out to caress Jazz as much as Drafter. He'd done this too many times, occasionally for mecha he cared for, to be hurt by it. After half a dozen weak sparks and many millions of adults sent on to Primus, it simply was not in Prowl anymore to grieve the loss. That didn't mean he did not wish to comfort the living, nor that he would not do his best to make each and every passing as pleasant as possible.

The processors he touched were already shut down, as were most non-vital systems. There was no thinking, no true awareness to share memories with. It meant he could give Drafter the sweetest of send-offs. Gently he powered up frame controls with his own energy and accessed them to unlock the sparkling's chest plates while he mirrored the action with his own.

There was a flicker of surprise from his mate, quickly contained for fear that he would do something to make the sparkling's passing, however it was, less pleasant.

The powerful white spark called to the tiny flicker of soft red as Prowl began to hum a lullaby, and Jazz watched Drafter's spark nearly leap into Prowl's once the first leader contacted. The red light flared out across Prowl's as the priest's chamber closed, then his armor, while Draft's frame finished graying to a lifeless dull sheen in Jazz's arms.

That was something he had never seen before, and Jazz was just left to stare at his mate, the frame in arms forgotten. "That's it? He's back? Safe?"

"It will take time for his physical energy to fully dissipate, but yes, he is with Primus now," Prowl said gently, watching for how his mate was going to take this. As little as he knew he could offer, he was determined to offer what he could.

Jazz nodded, only now seeming to notice the frame that he was still holding. His frame was tense, his field pulled in tight. "I'll...take...?" He still couldn't bring himself to call the empty frame anything generic, even devoid of life and everything that had made it his creation.

"You're busy, this orn." Jazz forced himself to continue before Prowl could respond. "But could you...come home early? A little. Please."

"We will deal with his remains," Prowl said, holding his hands out in offer. "Your duty to Drifter is done. Now it is mine. I will be home as early as I can manage," he promised.

Jazz nodded again, the gray frame handed over reluctantly and his field just touching his mate's in a jumble of emotion before the darker mech fled the room.

* * *

The entire suite was quiet. Silent. Jazz sat on the edge of the sparkling berth still in the berthroom he shared with Prowl. Drafter hadn't used it for most of the last metacycle of his functioning. The same was true of the toys and things still spread haphazardly through the rooms that the little one had been allowed to roam.

Jazz hadn't been able to force himself to pick them up, even when they had ceased to serve a purpose. It had been his one small act of denial against reality. His subconscious knew that they would need to be picked up soon. That all of it would disappear now that it was no longer needed.

That small part was lost and buried underneath the painful truth that Jazz was still coming to terms with. The truth that the spark that had been for all practical purposes the center of his existence for the last three vorns was gone.

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts and pain that he didn't hear the berthroom door open, or the whisper-quiet steps of his mate. It was only when Prowl's long arms slid around him from behind that Jazz realized he wasn't alone.

"I rescheduled as much as I could," Prowl's voice was quiet.

"I'm sorry." The apology was automatic, sincere in that Jazz hated to ask so much of his mate. Still he leaned into the embrace, finally allowing all of his pain and grief to spill out in a flood of spark deep agony.

"You have lost your sparkling," Prowl's tone was gentle, accepting of the grief and taking it in easily. "You will grieve. It is part of being alive."

"Hurts." Jazz whispered, sinking into the comfort and acceptance. He knew now that he had never cared for anyone like that before. If this was love, he had certainly never truly loved before.

"You love him," Prowl said, holding his mate and offering what support he could. "The hurt will fade and you'll remember his life rather than his absence."

It was several kliks before the sharp pain began to settle into a dull throbbing ache, and Jazz finally focused outward enough to concentrate on his mate. "He was all right, in the end?" Something in Jazz craved the knowledge. The need to know eating at him mercilessly as he reached up to caress Prowl's chest. "What did you do to him? Not seen you do that before."

"It is what should have happened when he was called, before he found the frame. If I capture a weak spark first, they linger and then dissipate there," Prowl explained quietly. "They are many ways to end a functioning. You have not witnessed all the methods I use. Yes, he was all right. He knew warmth and care, strength and belonging as he traveled through my spark and into the Well to be with Primus. He felt more settled than when he arrived. You did very well with him, even if it hurts now."

"Wish there was some way I could feel it." Jazz sighed. While Drafter's ability to communicate deep abstract things had been limited, Jazz had been sure of what he had sometimes felt from the sparkling.

Fear. Fear of going hungry. Fear of being alone. Jazz had spent every orn doing everything in his power to counter those fears by showing Drafter that he was loved and would be cared for. And in return Jazz had been able to witness a learning and change and an innocent joy in simply functioning from orn to orn.

"You can likely feel the last traces of him in my spark," Prowl offered sincerely. "His energy will not disperse completely for another six to seven joors."

"I can?" This was all so very new to Jazz. "May I?"

"Yes, love," Prowl murmured. "Berth?"

Jazz paused, caught slightly by the endearment he had never heard Prowl use before. Then the urgency in his spark, the demand for some sort of comfort, took over and he was pulling Prowl towards the berth. Prowl moved with him easily, allowing Jazz to guide them, guide the merge that he knew would be unlike anything Jazz had experienced before. Once Jazz had Prowl settled, sitting on the berth and well-supported, his climbed onto his mate's lap.

There was an urgency to his action, at war with the hesitation of the unknown. All of it was driven by a need to know and be sure. Still, Jazz leaned in to nuzzle his mate, hands drifting over Prowl's chest.

"Though we are likely to overload, this kind of merge is not for pleasure," Prowl used his hands to settle Jazz a bit and unlocked his chest plates. "I have merged this way before."

"I understand." Jazz murmured, his chest plates unlocked and already sliding back. His spark was far more needy of this than it had ever been for pleasure merging brought them, no matter how intense. He moaned softly with the first contact between their sparks, already reveling in the utterly centered, calm and welcoming _peace_ that was Prowl's spark. Yet even at this stage, Jazz could feel that the energy was different. There was no awareness attached to the secondary frequency, but it was there and mingling smoothly with Prowl's.

Even without the awareness though, there was a deep familiarity that Jazz recognized. It was Drafter, but not. This spark was peaceful, happy, slowly easing into a rest that was far more complete than any sort of recharge.

Gone were the fears and doubts that Jazz had been able to sense even in a sparkling. This spark felt better. Not yet whole, but so much more complete.

The feeling started to heal something in Jazz too. Another piece of the puzzle fell into place for him as he felt the changes, free of a processor and frame to hinder them.

Under it all was Prowl's powerful spark, pulsing warm and calm as it gradually enveloped Jazz's. There was peace in this too, in feeling how smooth Prowl's spark was after a death-merge. Drafter's spark must have been reasonably settled not to have impacted Prowl's.

The merge was slow, calm and controlled, and Jazz gradually found himself settling into a feeling of peace as well as his spark realized what his processor alone could not.

All was well.

All was good.

His creation was better, was returning to Primus, and this was a good thing.

It was not an end, but a next step in the healing that Drafter had needed.

With that thought the tension inside of him snapped, and he let go of his grief and pain. The loss was still there, was still going to hurt. He knew that. But he could deal with it now, now that his own healing had begun.


	11. Praxus is not Paradise

The excitement all around them was contagious, and Jazz smiled and cheered with the small group of mechlings that he had brought out for an orn at one of Praxus's professional raceways. The race card was almost done, the last race in its final laps and gaining intensity as the competitors jockeyed for position and the run to the finish.

"There they go!" Streetslick yelled, pointing down towards the finish. "Told you that Straightline would be in the lead."

The announcement was made to no one in particular, and Jazz only nodded. Streetslick had been one of the mechlings disappointed when Jazz had firmly informed them that there would not be allowed to bet on the outcomes of the race and no, he did not care if their creators would have let them. He was responsible for them right now and his rules stood. Still, they all seemed to be having a good time, and the surprise that Jazz had arranged for later would make up for any lingering disappointment.

The roar when Straightline edged out Flashburn at the finish line by less than a quarter length was defining, downright painful for Jazz's sensitive audials, but for Jazz the intensity of good energy, of happy, excited fields all around him more than made up for the discomfort. He could teek that his group was ecstatic, bets or no bets, and smiled and cheered right along with them all.

There was a bit of confusion that turned restless when he held them back, keeping them in their seats when the crowd began to dissipate. A firm sound from Jazz stilled the twitches somewhat until most of the crowd was gone, and then he stood and motioned for all of them to do the same as well. "Time to move."

Zoomer was half way up the stairs to the exit before Jazz caught the mechling's attention. "Not that way. We're going down." He said, pointing towards the track.

That sent a ripple of excitement through the group, though from the excited whispers they hadn't guessed what he had planned. Most thought they would get to meet one of the racers, and while there were hopes for a headliner, most were thinking it was one of the newer racers that hadn't earned a title yet but was in the function at least. When the winner of the last race was waiting down at the tunnel entrance to the track the small group of mechlings was stunned speechless, and Jazz could only laugh.

"Any aspiring racers in this group?" Straightline asked, his field teeking of good humor as he smiled down at them. The scuffs in his finish from the races were badges of honor, and the racer was a bit of an inspirational story, a middle class Praxian that had risen through the ranks from his start on the semi-pro tracks. He was what every aspiring racer that wasn't custom built for a racing family dreamed of.

"Yes, sir," a lithe femme, by far the smallest and meekest of the group managed to speak up. "I never feel anything like I do when I'm bar to bar with someone on the tracks."

"You fast?" Straightline waded into the group, offering each of the mechlings a small holocard, signed for them, smiling and brushing a good-feeling field against those who seemed eager for the contact.

"Fastest in my class," she straitened a bit, her shy demeanor falling away as the conversation went to something she loved with all her spark. Something she felt strong in. "I win a lot more than I lose."

"I can't wait to see." Straightline said, his smile growing as all of the mechlings stared at him.

"You didn't tell them they were going to have a chance on the track?" Straightline asked Jazz, glancing over at Conjunx Praesul of the Barasi of Praxus.

"And ruin the surprise? Why would I do something like that." Jazz smirked before addressing his charges. "Yes, all of you are going to get to run a practice heat on the track."

Stunned silence greeted the statement for a nanoklik, then an explosion of squeals, keens and cheers, several of them jumping up and down in anticipation.

Jazz leaned around, catching the optic of one of the track officials.

The large black and white mech nodded that they were ready, his own expression a wide grin at the clear enthusiasm on display.

"All right everyone, listen to the rules, then you can go line up. You will obey all normal rules of a track- You go the correct direction. You will follow all of the officials' instructions to the glyph the instant he gives them and without any back-talk. This is all speed and skill- there is to be no bumping or rough-housing. The Praxus Pro-Trac is doing us a favor letting you all run. Are we clear?"

"Yes Conjunx Praesul." The cheers and giddy excitement flowed over and around him, and he teeked clear intent to obey in that excitement, just as he expected. He'd chosen these mechlings, with the help of several other caregivers in the temple, to be those that adored racing more than most, were generally not rowdy or hard to manage, and were all grounders. The perfect mix for a great outing and to make a good impression on the track managers of the new Conjunx Praesul of the Barasi of Praxus, which would also make a favorable impression on the creators of the mechlings invited.

With the promises to obey freshly given Jazz stood back and watched, his field teeking happiness in return, pleasure at how well things were going and the mechling's enthusiasm.

While visibly vibrating with excitement, they were all obedient to the track official's instructions. Settled into their alt modes and positioned in their started grids, they waited, tension mounting, until the starter sounded.

Blurs were all that most mecha would be able to see on the track level as four mechlings broke from the grid, each jockeying for the lead already in the short race.

"What's the little femme's designation?" Straightline asked as they watched her zip and dodge, quickly making the lead by a length, then two.

"Silvercrest," Jazz smiled up at him. "Do you think she has much chance?"

"If she wants it enough and her creators are willing to support her in it, I think she just might." Straightline mused, clocking the femme as she not only held the lead, but managed stretch it another half a length coming off a turn. "What do they think of her ambitions?"

"Thrilled she loves something she's good at," Jazz smiled a bit. Of course this wasn't a true test. Not even in the mechling classes were frametypes mixed this much, but to a pro racer it showed her raw speed and basic habits. "I know they don't have the funds for some of the more specialized upgrades or classes, though the temple is helping some with the later."

Straightline continued to watch, noting how the femme crossed the finish with considerable grace and style for one so young. "I'll talk to a couple mecha I know, if you think it would be all right. There might be someone willing to sponsor potential like that on a junior track. Which would give her a chance at the semi-pro's after her adult upgrades."

"I think it would be wonderful," Jazz smiled warmly at him.

"Good." Straightline nodded. "Think they'll let me make a run with them?" He asked, already striding out on to the track towards the start line.

"I think they'll be shocked senseless again." Jazz responded, leaning easily back against a rail and not even trying to hide a smile as the mechlings exploded into squeals of delight and scrambled into the starting grid once more, plus one.

"Mech is going to have another fan club by the end of the orn." Jazz chuckled, the comment just his processor working out loud.

"You!" a snarl grabbed Jazz's attention and snapped his helm to the side to spot a pale blue and red Praxian with a rich brown chevron rushing towards him.

"Whoa-whoa." Jazz held up his hands and looked around for a an escape. "Easy- I don't even know you."

There was something in the mech's green optics that set off alarms in Jazz's processor and sent his survival coding into overdrive. The analyzing part of his processor noted the insignia that identified him as a Pro-Trac employee, but beyond that there was nothing.

"No, but _everyone_ knows you." The mech snarled, his fingers curling into claws as he lunged and swiped at Jazz. "Outsider, trash. _Forced_ upon our Barasi, a dirty rust spot on our proud state."

"I didn't have a lot of choice in whole thing." Jazz pointed out, managing to maintain some level of calm as he divided his attention between avoided the crazed mech and opening a comm line to emergency authorities.

"You had choices. You just didn't _take_ them." The mech snarled, jumping back for a moment. Overbright optics ran over Jazz from pede to helm, finally settling on the elegant designation glyph clearly painted in gold on Jazz's forehelm. "A decision which makes you even less worthy to wear that!"

The mech sprang into action with his declaration, snarling as his fingers dug and gouged at Jazz's helm relentlessly, heedless of Jazz's attempts to fend him off.

It wasn't until Jazz managed to shove him away hard enough to get some distance between them that the _pain_ registered. His sensor horns were gone, replaced by the worst pain he could imagine. One optic registered nothing at all while the other gave him nothing but static. He couldn't hear anything anymore, but he could teek the other mech, his field bright and wild and insane, coming towards him again. And a voice. A voice was in his helm, urgent, insistent, and not making much sense at the moment.

Blind, deaf, with a stranger in his helm and pain clouding everything, Jazz stumbled back. He tripped, fell, all of his energy focused on a single thing-trying to escape the aggressive field that was still coming at him.

The next thing he knew was two more fields rushing in, and the rage-filled on was being pulled away. Then a forth and fifth field, one came up to him and _pain_ surged through him once more.

Another field joined the one closest too him, this one projecting calm. There was a nano-klik when Jazz could think, then the pain flared again, and continued, growing in intensity.

He had no way of his knowing that it was his own screams that was driving the pain, a vicious cycle that he couldn't escape on his own. The new fields that touched his own were peripheral overload, his processor too overtaxed to register anything but the agony he was in.

Then suddenly it was over. Pain ended, and for a brief few nanokliks after the feeds ended but before his processor shut completely down, Jazz recognized some of the fields around him, and the intent -- to help -- of several others.

Then it was over.

* * *

His systems came on-line primed for pain, and it felt like an eternity before they calmed enough to register the fact there was no pain. Repairs and lines of code flashed through his processor, but Jazz ignored them as soon as awareness of outside of his frame kicked in.

The touch of his mate's field against his was calming and soothing in a way that nothing else was to Jazz any more, and the urgency in getting his optics online was only because he wanted to see and confirm for himself what he was teeking.

Slightly fuzzy vision finally settled on Prowl, and Jazz was sure he called his mate's designation. Only his audials registered _nothing_.

Confused, he tried again. Louder.

~Shu, my mate. You were badly damaged. Your sensor horns and audials are very unusual for Praxus. We've had to call in a specialist from Kalis. Until he arrives, you are likely to remain def.~ Prowl's awareness brushed against Jazz's processors at the outermost level. ~They did not replace your visor since it was not integral to your visual systems so you could select exactly what you wanted.~

It was only then that Jazz realized that not only Prowl was in there with him, but a third presence that IDed as a doctor.

~Hello Jazz. My designation is Imagescan.~ The Praxian seated on the other side of the medical berth introduced himself smoothly. The deep, confident tone mimicked the feelings that he was projecting over the hardline connection between them.

~As your mate has already told you, we were unable to make repairs to your auditory systems with what we had on hand. We hope to have the specialist and the replacement parts within a decaorn. Until then, we have covered all of the damaged area with buffering and protection shielding, as well as applied as many blocks as was feasible to your input receptors. While it will help a great deal, I would recommend avoiding striking your helm on anything and any potential loud noises. Some of the damage was to stabilizing components directly tied to your systems, and pain may still result if they are disrupted.~

A shudder ran through Jazz at the mere reminder of the agony that he had experienced. Now that he knew what had caused it, at least on a personal level, he was inclined to never go through it again. ~Noted. Definitely noted, recorded, and filed.~ He promised, earning a small flare of amusement from Imagescan.

~Your optics we repaired enough so that you have a normal range of vision. All of the structural repair to your helm is also complete. We left the cosmetics alone. You and your mate may see to them once the final repairs are complete.~ The medic said, finishing his report. ~Now I would like to run a complete scan. If it comes back that your systems are stable, I will leave you with your mate for a little while.~

~Whatever you need to do.~ Jazz agreed, relaxing back on the berth and reaching out with his field to brush against Prowl. Question, confusion, and affection touched the priest as Jazz waited for Imagescan to finish. Prowl's reply was supportive, reassuring, with a touch of 'later' in his field, but his mental presence remained strong and steady, though silent as well.

When Imagescan unplugged himself, he pinned Jazz's comm system.

::I am satisfied for now. I've made the necessary updates to your records. Someone should be along to check on you in a joor. If you need anything, this is the general facility frequency.:: A code was pinged to Jazz, and Imagescan waited until he received a confirmation before continuing. ::There is also a call button, should your comm fail for some reason. It is located on the side of the berth. Do you have any questions for me before I depart?::

Jazz took a nanoklik to consider the question, but the honest truth was that he was starting to get tired. His processor was still stressed and overloaded, and all he wanted right now was the comfort of his mate, and maybe some answers that Prowl could provide.

::Nah, I think I'm good for now.:: He finally concluded.

Imagescan nodded and looked at Prowl, also checking with the Barasi before taking his leave.

~Do you remember what happened?~ Prowl asked gently. ~The first information we have is from Emergency Dispatch, and it was only that you were screaming and unresponsive. No one saw it begin.~

Jazz leaned back on the soft berth, new green optics growing dim as his processor focused on recalling what had happened. Panic tensed his entire frame, his hand reaching out to grab Prowl's tightly. ~The mechlings?~

~They're fine. Slightly traumatized by what they saw and worried about you, but the racer, a manager and couple Enforcers did a good job of distracting and calming them down by the time I got there. Everyone made it back to the temple and home.~ Prowl couldn't conceal the shudder and flicker of fear-horror at the scene he'd run into the track to see.

Jazz calmed some, but still did not let go of his mate's hand as he started to speak again, recalling something that he really did not want to try and recall . ~I was talking with Straightline. We watched the mechlings run a heat, then he went out to join them. They were excited. The heat started and- I don't know where he came from.~

Green optics rose to settle on Prowl, drawing strength and concentration from the other. ~He was crazy. He was ranting about how I had been forced on you, how I was a 'rust spot' on Praxus. That I should have made other choices.~

Without thought his free hand rose towards his forehelm. ~How I wasn't worthy of wearing your designation.~

Prowl's x-vented sigh was easy to see and feel even if Jazz couldn't hear it. ~I am sorry you had to face that. I try to protect you as much as I can, but that was beyond anything I anticipated happening. His processor damage did not usually lead to violence.~

~That wasn't normal?~ Jazz asked, choosing to focus on the latter part of Prowl's reply. He hadn't thought the mech was acting normal, but he was also aware of the fact that he was not well like in Praxus among some circles, including the common ones that did not often have such free access to him.

~No. He is not normally violent. His records indicate limited processor capacity due to an industrial accident in his former function. While his current function is far below what he once was, those who interact with him regularly describe him as a generally agreeable sort. Not the happiest of mecha, but not angry or violent.~

~What will happen to him now?~ Jazz asked, all of him finally starting to settle into a more relaxed state.

Prowl paused before plunging into it. ~A fair amount depends on you. If you do not make an issue of this he will be thoroughly examined by the processor doctors to ensure that this was triggered by your appearance rather than a priority shift in his response tree. So long as he is unlikely to assault others it will be noted in his file and the track will make sure he is not working the orns that you visit after hours. Regrettably, I also must now insist that you do not travel in the general population without a guard nearby, unless you are able to defend yourself.~

There were several kliks of silence as Jazz contemplated that, his thumb absently rubbing Prowl's hand still in his own. ~Don't see any reason to make a big deal out of it, unless you need to. Not going to make mecha like me any more if I do, and not going to gain anyone anything but a lot of processor aches. If it wasn't anything personal, well, there are a lot more nobles I'd love to be able to take a swing at, and who would actually deserve it.~

There was relief in Prowl's field, and definite approval even before he spoke. ~I have no need. He is damaged. As distressing as what I saw was, traditional punishments will not help. His fate will be publicized along with what happened. He will not be free in society if he is dangerous in general. That is all I need. Allowing our legal system to run its course will improve your standing with many commoners.~

~Anything that will help.~ Jazz agreed with a note of good humor. Humor that faded with the second expression of Prowl's distress. ~I've pulled you from your duties again. And...worried you?~

~Love ... your visor was shattered, optics broken and loose, forehelm and sensor horns torn off and half your right jaw structure gone. I've witness mecha extinguish with less severe damage. I was afraid you wouldn't survive.~

A soft whine escaped Jazz at the recount of his injuries and the distress that they had caused Prowl. ~I'm sorry. All I know is that it _hurt_.~ He admitted, shuddering at ghost pain from the memories.

~You did _nothing_ to be sorry for,~ Prowl said firmly.

Warm affection, _love_ , rubbed warmly against Prowl's field and over the hardline from his mate. ~I understand about the guard. Maybe after the repairs are done we can talk about those self-defense classes you wanted me to take.~

~We will,~ Prowl relaxed, relieved that his mate would at least try to learn to defend himself.

A short pause, then a hopeful. ~You would have missed me?~

~Yes,~ Prowl's processors and field caressed him. ~I enjoy your company.~

Jazz was selfishly delighted with the small admission as his field settled into a tired purr. ~Can you stay for a little?~

~Yes. The temple can operate without me for a while.~ Prowl promised. ~Recharge. You are safe here.~

* * *

Jazz booted slowly, relaxed and feeling safe enough that he read all the reports this time. All the repairs made, what was still off line, the blocks, all of it. It was a _lot_ of damage, almost all of it to his face. Somewhat absently he wondered if they'd made any cosmetic changes while they were doing repairs. It would be good to look in a mirror soon.

It was almost at the end of the boot sequence when he realized why he felt so relaxed and safe. Prowl's field was meshed with his, and it was calm, centered and peaceful.

Actually, Prowl's field teeked of light recharge.

That was something that he had not been expecting, and Jazz quickly tried to muffle his surprise and delight, wanting to enjoy the feeling for a little longer.

He had not expected to pull Prowl from his duties for so long, and he would have to apologize again once his mate was awake.

Optics finally fully booted, Jazz turned his helm to look at his mate. Prowl was leaned forward, helm resting on arms on the berth while he sat in a chair. The slight fuzziness, the result of his missing visor, was something easy enough to adjust to, and Jazz reached out to caress the peaceful face. He could feel the boot sequence, and that it was the gradual kind of Prowl waking without the need to rush. It wouldn't be long before white optics lit in the red face, but for the moment Jazz was allowed the pleasure of being awake while his mate was not.

It was an unusual arrangement, and Jazz's field stretched out to encompass his mate, feeling as each system came fully online and the gradual return of awareness.

::You're here.:: Jazz commented softly as the white optics lit, and touched his fingers to his lips and then to Prowl's helm in the closest thing he could manage to one of their usual gestures of affection right now.

Prowl smiled warmly up at him and captured his wrist to kiss that finger as he pinged for a comm line. ::I did say the temple would survive without me for a while. Occasionally I am summoned and will be out of the city for a decaorn or more. My Archipresul are rather enamored of you.::

::Is that unusual? Not that I am going to argue with the idea that some mecha in this city do like me.:: Jazz replied, his tone teasing, but honestly warm as well.

::Once every century or so all the Barasi gather for a meeting to catch up on what's going on in each city. Occasionally I host it, but more often it is elsewhere as the duty rotates,:: Prowl explained. ::The Prime will also summon me on occasion.::

::Understood.:: Jazz murmured, catching Prowl's hand and twining their fingers together. ::How long before you have to go?::

::We should be able to leave within the joor. The doctor said that there was no reason to keep you here if I believed you would behave and be protected within the temple walls. He wished to do one last check when you were awake and then we can leave.::

Jazz frowned and reached out to tap the summons button, figuring he might as well let them know he was awake, since it seemed to be the first step in getting out of there. ::Protection I can see. But what are they worried about my behaving?::

::So you don't cause yourself pain or additional damage. If you move too fast or hit your helm again, it could cause serious complications to your repairs. The padding and blocks only protect against so much.:: Prowl hoped to remind him of what the doctor had first said.

::Ah.:: Jazz relaxed. ::I'll be a good little mecha. Even if it will interfere with fun until things are fixed.::

The field that pushed playfully deep into Prowl made it clear just what kind of 'fun' Jazz was referring too, along with the soft rumble of the darker mech's engine.

::Oh, I think we can have some fun. Just not particularly energetic fun,:: Prowl purred, earning an exasperated huff from Imagescan when the doctor walked in.

::How are you feeling, Jazz?:: The doctor asked once a group comm line was open.

::Off, but I'm sure everyone's expecting that.:: Jazz replied. ::Visions a bit funny. Balance is off. Helm still aching some. Fuel and some more 'charge would be nice, but it's not urgent. That about what I should feel?::

::Yes, that lines up with expectations. Would you attempt to stand, please?::

Prowl let go of Jazz's hand, but hovered nearby, ready to catch his mate if need be.

Obediently Jazz sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the berth. He wound up in his intended position, but swaying unsteadily from side to side as his hands gripped the edge of the berth. ::This isn't going to be fun for a bit, is it?:: He asked once his stabilizers had oriented themselves enough for him to focus on something besides not falling over. It was only then that he realized that Prowl had one hand in his, the other arm loose around his waist and was against his back.

::No, it won't be,:: Imagescan said. ::Barasi, if you would give him more space, he must learn to balance on his own.::

Prowl wasn't happy to do so, but he complied, taking a full step away. Even with the physical contact gone, Jazz could still feel that field meshed with his.

For a klik Jazz chose to focus on that field, love and thank brushing against Prowl as Jazz drew strength and focus from the same contact. Only then did the hand still clinging to the berth loosen, and he attempted a shaky step.

Several more followed the first attempt, each growing a little bolder and more stable, though lacking the grace that Jazz normally managed.

::Is it going to be this bad until all the repairs are done?:: Jazz finally asked, shamelessly reaching out to Prowl and surprised at how exhausted he suddenly felt. His mate's touch gave him strength, a solid support when he needed it, and yet Prowl wasn't coddling him either. Not really.

::It should not be. Your processors should adapt to the new input and work out how to move without so much effort,:: Imagescan assured him. ::However, until the repairs are complete, a steady walk should be the most you expect. Running, dancing, racing and other quick movements are beyond your capabilities for now. You simply do not have the input to manage it.::

::Sounds like a good time to catch up on working with the crystals then, since everything else I do is out of the question.:: Jazz commented. ::Happy enough with the results to let me go doc?::

::I believe so. I am confident that you will be well cared for at home,:: Imagescan decided. ::The temple has many well trained and skilled medics and doctors. I do not recommend driving there, however.::

::A transport will come for us,:: Prowl promised.

::Very well. I will submit the necessary information for his release.:: Imagescan said. ::Would you like assistance in moving him down to the entrance to meet your transport?::

Prowl paused, actually thinking about it before nudging Jazz to answer, who weighed all the factors from where he was still comfortably supported in his mate's arms before responding. ::If we can go slow and you don't mind being seen with me like this, I think I can make it. If we're in a rush...help would be good.::

::No rush, Jazz. I'll support you,:: Prowl said evenly.

::Just ask for help if you end up needing it,:: Imagescan told them both. ::We are here to help.::

::Thank you.:: Jazz replied, sincere as his field conveyed a more personal level of thanks to his mate.

Satisfied, Imagescan offered them a final nod, as well a refresher ping of the common comm channels of the center before departing.

Prowl shifted to put himself at Jazz's dominant side, slid an arm around his waist and encouraged him to lean in. ::Ready?::

::As I'll ever be, and ready to be out of here.:: No matter how good the care or the reason for his visit, Jazz did not care for medical centers of any sort. The sooner that he was out, the happier he was. ::I'll try walking on my own, if you want.:: He offered even as he leaned into the contact, thankful for the strong comfort and solid support that Prowl offered.

Prowl simply huffed and nudged Jazz to start moving at his own pace, but to move. It was a sound Jazz felt instead of heard, as was the chuckle he offered in return to his mate as he obediently set off.

Moving with Prowl was much easier than trying to move by himself, using the other mech to catch himself often. It was slowly starting to sink in more fully that one of his major senses was gone, everything that he was feeling and seeing lacking the audio input that he had always relied so heavily on. It was disconcerting on a very deep level, distracting him some from his focus.

He made it to the front door by leaning heavily on his mate, far more worn out than such a walk had any business doing to him. Still he could teek that Prowl didn't mind, and the transport waiting for them was a definite blessing.

::I must look aweful.:: Jazz commented as Prowl helped him settle into the transport and made sure that he was secured. The looks that had been cast his way had not bee lost on Jazz, and once more he was struck with the desire to see exactly how bad the damage to his helm appeared.

::Not many mecha leave a hospital with so much damage apparent,:: Prowl agreed as he sat down next to Jazz. Once he was seated, the transport began to smoothly accelerate and merged onto the main roadway. ::It is rare for supplies or skills to be unavailable.::

::Sorry I'm such a bother. The upgrades seemed like a very good idea, at the time.:: Jazz sighed, his field leaning into Prowl for the contact. ::And thanks for the transport.::

::By the time the specialists leave, our doctors will know all they need to to repair your specialized systems,:: Prowl replied. ::Just please stop suggesting you are such a determent.::

Jazz was on the verge of apologizing again before he caught himself, and instead just sent a very deep surge of affection across their fields. They settled there until the transport rolled to a gentle stop inside the temple grounds.

::Everyone who lives or works here should know that you can not hear until repairs are finished,:: Prowl said as he helped his mate stand. ::There was a special announcement after the doctor said your specialized systems could not be adequately repaired without supplies and training from Kalis.::

The surprise that rippled through Jazz carried clear into his field, though he knew that he should have expected something of the sort. The temple was well organized and well run by very thorough mecha. ::Thank you. I'll try and be aware of what's going on around me. Though right now I think I just want to recharge for about a decaorn.::

::So long as there are moments of awareness to refuel, it would not be a bad thing,:: Prowl said as he helped Jazz walk through the entry lobby of the temple to many curious looks and a few stares. ::You should recharge as much as you feel the need to.::

::No worry about the fuel.:: Jazz answered as he instinctively drew himself upright, attempting to present a mech who was functioning much better than Jazz really was currently. ::Going to want some before recharge.::

::Good. There is suitable grade and additives in our quarters. Once you are in recharge I do have some duties I should attend to. I will be back at my normal time tonight, but not do get up on my account.:: Prowl instructed firmly. ::It is sweet that you always have evening energon ready for us, but do not risk your health over it.::

::I won't.:: Jazz promised, frame slumping from exhaustion once the lift doors were firmly closed and the private lift was in motion upwards to their quarters. ::Can see how I am feeling then.::

::Hopefully better, though I understand any level of repairs such as yours will require extensive recharge to set and settle. You are likely to be tired and weak for several more orns.::

::My frame agrees with you.:: Jazz said as Prowl helped him from the lift to the berthroom and then on to the berth. Energon was brought a moment later, an entire cube of Jazz's standard solar mixed with dark granules that did not dissolve like a flavorant would.

::Then drink and recharge without an alarm,:: Prowl told him as he settled on the berth to snuggle until Jazz slipped into recharge.

::What's the extra stuff?:: Jazz asked, curious but trusting as he started to consume the energon without waiting for an answer.

::Supplements. It will aid your frame in integrating the repairs.:: Prowl explained as Jazz snuggled against him.

Jazz hummed softly, finishing the cube in less than a klik. His optics were already dim as he settled more comfortably against Prowl, field meshed with his mate's once more. Warm, calm, and completely content now that he was home, the hum settled into a soft purr as his systems shut down into recharge.

::Love you.:: He murmured before slipping all the way under. He wasn't aware enough to pick up the gentle reply of affection.

* * *

With a visor borrowed from the temple art supplies and helpfully brought up by a cheerful and happy-to-help temple youngling, Jazz had settled on his workroom floor, a space that had once been the outside entryroom quarter of Prowl's hobby room, and worked on replanting some of the smaller crystals into the next size of pot. While the borrowed visor wasn't as good as his own specialized and carefully programmed one, it was good enough to check for shape, color spectrum and micron-level flaws. Another vorn and these could join the private garden he'd created of the apartment he'd been given on the level below Prowl's.

The space was slowly starting to become Jazz's private a retreat. An expression of himself that he had only shared with one other so far. Drafter had loved the trips down there. When the sparkling had still been active one entire room had been devoted to his entertainment. It had taken Jazz several metacycles to set pede in there again after the small spark had returned to Primus, and even longer to start cleaning it up.

Eventually Jazz planned to show it to Prowl. It just wasn't time yet. Wasn't ready. 

The semi-solid base arranged to the proper depth in the shallow basin that was going to serve as the new home to the fine sparkling crystals he was working with, Jazz moved on to the next step. A fine, thin, and extremely sharp blade was inserted into the old base medium, and with practiced precision Jazz made the proper sized cut, turning the bowl slowly and focusing all of his concentration on keeping the blade a precisely the proper angle. Too shallow a cut and he risked harming the crystal's base. Too steep of angle and he would not make the complete cut that would allow him to lift the entire crystal out as one piece.

He had no care for time as he worked, his focus absolute and allowing him to be blissfully ignorant of all that wasn't perfect for a time. It came to an end though, as it always did. Only then did Jazz realize he was not alone in the room.

::You are becoming quite skilled,:: Prowl's voice was low and quiet over the comm.

Jazz looked up from his work, a smile on his face until he jumped in place, startled, and laughed at himself, though the sound has a mocking edge to it. ::Thank you.::

The borrowed visor flickered as he Jazz adjusted the setting and turned his attention to checking the crystal over once more. Satisfied, he rose, leaving his work on the floor to finished settling for a night.

::Washrack, and recharge?:: Prowl suggested with a rumbling purr as he drew Jazz against him for a kiss.

::I like that.:: Jazz agreed, pulling back to remove the overlarge visor before leaning in for another kiss, his frame pressing against his mate's with a need to be close, held and reassured. It felt good that it was indulged without hesitation. That Prowl stilled liked him enough to simply reflexively give physical comfort was incredibly reassuring.

Prowl gave a hum that Jazz felt rather than heard and guided the injured mech to the washrack. ::Have you had any issues?::

::With my frame? Nothing that he didn't warn me about. Not being able to hear is a pain in the aft.:: Jazz grumbled from where he was tucked against Prowl's side. ::Jumped when I saw you 'cause the work visor doesn't auto-adjust like mine did. You were a _lot_ closer than I was expecting.::

::My apologies. I was attempting to be clearly visible when you looked up without distracting you,:: Prowl nuzzled him, careful to avoid the patches covering where Jazz's sensor horns had once been.

::You were. I just wasn't paying attention.:: Jazz reassured him, his frame vibrating in a purr as they entered the washrack. ::How was your orn?::

::Long.:: Prowl summed it up. ::I missed your presence more than I anticipated.::

::Sorry.:: Jazz turned his helm to nuzzle Prowl, struggling a little within himself. ::I can try to come see you tomorrow.:: He suggested, though there was no confidence behind the suggestion.

::Do not get up on my account,:: Prowl gave him an easy out.

::It's not the getting up that's the hard part.:: Jazz started, field flickering in discomfort, still hard for him to admit weakness, even to someone he trusted as deeply as his own mate. ::It's the getting out.::

::No one here will hurt you. No one would _dare_.:: Prowl assured him gently, field full of support and concern.

The mech in his arms shuddered, field flickering wildly with half-formed memories of pain. ::Why wouldn't they?::

Prowl paused just inside the washrack and turned to really _look_ at his mate. ::Jazz, you are the mate of the Barasi, the equal of the Lord of Praxus. Attacking you is legally equivalent to attacking Lord Evenway. Socially, it is worse. I am the spark of Praxus, the center of its social and spiritual existence. Without the Barasi, Praxus will wither and extinguish. You, as my bonded mate, are an extension of me.:::

::An unacceptable extension, but an extension.:: Jazz murmured, the words of the crazed mech coming back to haunt him. If he didn't know them to be the truth that no one else dared to speak, even if they believed it, it wouldn't be so bad. But the intent, the delivery, it made his spark shudder, despite his mate's approval.

::Your acceptance is growing because of your actions,:: Prowl countered. ::Within the temple, it is also growing because they see that you make me happy.::

::I do?:: The question was quiet, seeking, much like the hand that touched Prowl's chest, silently asking for the reassurance that could not lie.

::You do,:: Prowl promised even as he unlocked his chest plates and drew them to the floor where the overload would not cause them to fall.

Jazz was against him in a nanoklik, chest parted and spark reaching. The brilliant light was swirling, but not with it's usual eager anticipation. This time it pulsed and flinched, hurt and seeking visibly. Without hesitation Prowl's reached, coaxing and reassuring into the gentle first stages of a merge, even as Prowl drew their frames closer.

~You are wanted Jazz,~ Prowl cooed. ~Yes, there are those who will never accept you, but you are a good mech and everyone with an open processor who meets you knows that.~

Jazz's spark quivered as it sank into the merge, easing a tiny bit as it was surrounded by a place that still sang of peace and safety. There were several false starts, hesitant touches, before everything was laid bare before Prowl.

How the level of comfort that Jazz had finally been building towards his new home had been shattered. How rejection this time had not only come in looks and words, but in actual physical pain that mirrored the world that Jazz had left behind in Kalis. How deeply his spark wanted to believe in Prowl, but was still afraid to place so much trust in one individual.

Prowl accepted the hurt, the setback, the pain and distress and comparison, only to caress Jazz's spark with the peace and acceptance that was his very nature and what made him such an exceptional Barasi and priest. ~Then trust in the others as well. The mecha who have been nothing but accepting of you and pleased with you since your arrival.~ He nudged thoughts of Honor, Silversheen and Skysign, and of the dozens of youths and their creators that Jazz interacted with regularly who's comments had made it to Prowl's audials. With that was a much less specific knowledge that it was not just good comments that Prowl heard.

~And you defended me.~ Jazz murmured, his spark easing and starting to offer better things to Prowl, seeking affirmation of the remembrance and understanding. The fact that Prowl seemed to feel good in Jazz's presence. The truth that Jazz wanted to and did feel safe with Prowl.

The small part of Jazz's spark that was devoted to Drafter, at least for the reminder of this functioning. Everything that the bright spark had taught Jazz in the short time they had been together.

~Yes,~ Prowl agreed to all of it, warmed and deeply relieved at Drafter had not been a terrible mistake to ask Jazz to care for.

~You will stay with me?~ The question was from Jazz, but also from somewhere far deeper, a need that ran to Jazz's core.

~Yes,~ Prowl promised, his spark giving no question of it. Prowl _liked_ his company, _enjoyed_ their time together, and felt _good_ when Jazz's field was nearby.

The spark touching Prowl's purred. It was not yet completely at ease. That would take time still, but it was soothed enough that _Jazz_ started to surface again, and nudged Prowl's spark with the life that had always been there before. ~Thank you.~

~I am glad this could help,~ Prowl relaxed, purring softly as the pleasure that had begun to build was noticed. ~I am glad you could bring yourself to ask.~

~I had been afraid you would say no. But I hoped.~ That hope was a new thing for Jazz as well, something that he had been given here. His spark continued to brush against Prowl's, sharing the pleasure that was warming there, and the myriad of good emotions that went with it.

~Good. Hope is important. Some orn I hope you will believe enough that you do not need the hope,~ Prowl moaned softly, his spark pulsing and reaching eagerly for a deeper merge and the mutual pleasure it brought.

~Some orn. Thank you for being patient with me.~ Jazz moaned in return, relaxing into the merge more deeply. This was comfort and strength, and he pushed the pleasure into the merge. It came easily, even though they did not merge regularly. Here and there Jazz could feel the traces of other powerful sparks that had recently touched Prowl's, but in this moment Prowl was entirely his. Duties, responsibilities, others ... they just did not matter in these few moments where Prowl gave himself wholly to Jazz as he did with his every endeavor.

There was a brief sense of curiosity that was answered with image-glyph markers of who they had been. Three of the archipresuls taking some of the strain of Prowl's station and the calling and grace for so many sparks. They were strength in unity, but there was no love. It meant no more to Prowl emotionally than when a mech he offered grace to asked him to be his lover for the end. It was duty, it was something he honored and was grateful for, but it was nothing like the place that was for Jazz. Jazz wasn't a duty. Not in this.

Pure acceptance, honor and a bit of awe flowed back from Jazz at the truth Prowl was offering. For now, Prowl was his, and he was Prowl's, and his spark fell into that bliss joyfully and willingly.

* * *

Jazz hummed softly to himself as he played around with the datapad and waited for his mate to return. Their energon was out, prepared just as they each liked it, and a handful of crusted jellies as well. Prowl had a meeting that he suspected was going to run late, but Jazz still hoped that he would have enough energy to look over the changes to his appearance that Jazz had put together.

The specialist had finally arrived in Praxus with the needed parts, and the schematics that would allow the Praxus doctors to replicate the repairs, should they ever be needed again, or upgrade or change his upgrades if he wanted.

Jazz fervently hoped repairs would never been needed again. He was looking forward to being able to hear and being back to normal again. It had been an agonizing thirty-two orns, of which Jazz had no doubts whatsoever that his dominant creator had more than a hand in generating the length. He wasn't sure if it was to try and punish him or press for something from Praxus or one of its allies, though the later was more likely. There was no way the wily mech would allow such an opportunity to slip away from him. Jazz was just as sure that Prowl and Skysound, and possibly the Prime, had made him regret trying to use his creation's need to political gain. Prowl in particular was not likely to take such an idea well and Jazz had no doubts that his mate was far smarter than his creator. Maybe not as ruthless and definitely nowhere close to as cruel, but far smarter.

He was tempted to ask, and allowed his processor to wander that direction as he relaxed back on the comfortable lounge, pondering until a ping to his comm announced his mate's return for the evening, nearly a joor later than usual.

Bouncing to his pedes, Jazz headed for the entrance to welcome Prowl personally and found himself embraced as warmly as he embraced his mate.

::Looking forward to having all your senses back?:: Prowl smiled softly.

::Yes. Yes yes yes!:: Jazz said as his field sang of eagerness, leaning in to kiss his mate before drawing Prowl behind him towards the library. ::How was your orn?::

::Entirely too long, though nothing traumatic happened at least,:: he relaxed into his mate's excitement and joyful mood. ::It's good to teek you in a good mood again.::

::I'm always in a good mood with you.:: Jazz teased playfully, arm looped through his mate's. ::Have the energy to look over the sketch for my appearance after the repairs are done?::

Jazz was not looking forward to the several orns away from his home to get everything done, but the end would be well worth it. And if he was lucky Prowl would be able to come and see him every now and then. At least he could count on spending the bulk of the time unconscious one way or another.

::I believe so. What are you having changed?:: Prowl asked as they sat on the lounge.

::Honestly? Not much.:: Jazz admitted, handing Prowl his energon, then offering Prowl the datapad.

The screen displayed Jazz in full dimension resolution. His frame was the same basic design, Jazz having applied some small changes that streamlined the outline a little. The same blended black and white color scheme graced his frame.

The most notable changes were to his helm. A slimmer visor graced Jazz's features, the ends flaring up to accent the sensory horns that were longer and angled more back than the old design.

The entire look framed the small shield in the center of the forehelm, boldly sporting Prowl's designation once more.

::Is this your idea?:: Prowl asked carefully, his field held painfully neutral.

::Which part?:: Jazz asked calmly, suspecting he already knew the answer as he draped himself around Prowl to study the screen.

::All of it,:: Prowl motioned to the redesign in total.

::Yes. I looked at my options, and most of the changes are internal upgrades.:: He said as he looked over the design with a critical optics once more. ::Other than answering my questions about what was and wasn't possible, no one tried to influence my choices. Is there something you don't like?::

::I like it very much, especially that you want this permanent,:: he slid a fingertip over the forehelm shield. ::I just want them to be because you like and want it.::

::I do.:: Jazz admitted quietly, ::So long as you are willing to permit me to wear it. I didn't see a reason to make a lot of changes to how I look. I _like_ me.::

::So long as we are bonded, you may wear it,:: Prowl repeated a reassurance that had been given several times already and tipped his mate's chin up for a soft kiss. ::It is amazing how such small changes make you look so much more elegant.::

::Glad you like them.:: For a klik Jazz settled into a contemplative silence.: ::Thought about changing more.:: He admitted.

::To fit in better?:: Prowl didn't really have to ask, but he hoped his mate might open up with the question.

::Yeah. Lot of surface stuff that could have been done.:: Jazz reflected, one had tracing lightly over Prowl's back, stroking the surface armor and sensor wings. ::Decided I don't want it though. Not for them.::

::Then you chose well,:: Prowl murmured. ::It would not help as much as you would hope, I expect. Those who did not like outsiders will still know, though it would moderate some reactions,:: he admitted. ::You should only make changes if it would please you.::

::I don't want to change for them.:: Jazz repeated, tilting his helm to look up at Prowl. ::But I will change for you, if you need me to.::

::I do not,:: Prowl said firmly. ::As much as I like the modifications you have chosen, I do not need those either. It is your frame and you should be comfortable in it.::

::Then everyone is happy.:: Jazz settled down with a content purr. ::I like the look. You like it. And they can deal with it.::

It was perhaps a bit vindictive of him, but Jazz was starting to want them to remember that he was an outsider. He might not be able to counter the prejudice that existed in Praxus, but he could serve as a visible reminder that there was a world beyond their city, and that different wasn't always bad.

::Yes, they can, and they should,:: Prowl agreed. ::No one was denied a sparkling for you to come here. They need to get over it.::

That was not his mate's normal speech, and Jazz laughed aloud in delight before catching Prowl's face for a kiss. ::One more night of fun before I am gone for a few orns?::

::Oh yes,:: Prowl's engines rumbled deep and hungry as his hands began to explore Jazz's frame. ::I would very much like your valve and spark tonight.::

::Then they are both yours.:: His mate responded, eager ripples of anticipation running through his field to tease at his mate. ::And new things for you to explore when I return.::

::Yes,:: Prowl purr deepened in anticipation as he drew Jazz towards the berthroom. ::I have missed feeling you melt as I stroke your horns.::

The shudder that ran through Jazz at the suggestion revealed just how much he had missed that himself. The soothing, gentle touch of his mate's hand on the sensors was bliss. ::I'll be a puddle as much as you want after they're fixed.::

::For now,:: Prowl pushed him gently to his back on the large, soft berth and climbed over him. ::I will have to make you a puddle of pleasure in other ways.::

Jazz stretched beneath his mate, displaying his frame as much as possible and in clear invitation. ::As creative as you are? _Please_.:: He purred as his field teased at Prowl. When his mate was like this Jazz couldn't help but be all eager in return. He knew how much Prowl loved to teek that, and the rev of the Praxian's engine spoke clearly of it not having changed.

Skilled fingers caressed Jazz's valve cover as Prowl leaned in for a kiss. Jazz reached up to catch Prowl's helm between his hands, glossa tangling with his mate's playfully. The valve cover under Prowl's hand remained stubbornly closed, despite the heat and lubricant seeping from the edges of the panel to tease Prowl even more.

Every bit of the darker mech spread on the berth sang of life and happiness in the moment. With his mate, sharing pleasure, safe and secure, how could he be anything but? Engine purring softly in reflection of his mood, Jazz ended the kiss and released his mate's face, but not before getting in a playful nip to Prowl's nose.

Prowl chuckled before sliding down his mate's from, kissing and teasing the chest seam before settling between Jazz's spread legs and lifting them up to angle his hips further upwards. The first kiss was just above the seam, teasing and light, but with a tiny lick of a glossa that promised so much more. Just the light touch earned a moan of pleasure from his mate, and the resistance was an instant thing of the past as the cover snapped away, presenting Prowl with his prize.

With a low purr of his engine, Prowl swirled his glossa around the slick opening, teasing platelets and rim sensors.

"All yours." Jazz moaned aloud, hips shifting as he tried to press into the touch, his field full of desire for that touch and pleasure.

With a smile and last swirl of his glossa, Prowl shifted again, sliding up his mate's frame to sink his spike into that welcoming slick tightness with a moan and shiver of pleasure as they came to rest, fully joined, for a brief moment. He claimed Jazz's moth in a heated kiss as he drew his hips back and plunged forward.

His mate's frame moved with his, matching the pace and begging for more even as his field sang. 

::Feels so good. You do every time.:: Jazz moaned over the still open comm, his mouth occupied with the sweet kisses from his mate.

::As do you,:: Prowl moaned over the comm in reply as he began to thrust, deep and hard, driving into Jazz with all the strength in his frame. ::So slick, so eager.::

::Never avoided good feelings.:: Jazz informed him. A truth that Prowl well knew. And the little detail that no one had even been as good as his mate. "Prowl." He moaned for his mate to hear, echoing the quickly growing charge set into motion before they had even made it to the berthroom.

It earned a purr from Prowl as they moved in tandem, a dance of pleasure they were both intimately familiar with and relished. Tonight it was fast and hard, a driving beat that sent a surge of pleasure-charge through their frames with each thrust and pull. Strong emotions- love and delight- surged through Jazz's field just before the shock of an overload surged through his frame into his mate, the cries ripped from him sound of pure pleasure this time.

Prowl grunted, shuddering as the cascade crashed into him. One thrust, then a second, and he groaned his overload, sending bursts of crackling transfluid deep into Jazz to heighten his mate's already intense overload. It rose into a blinding bliss, then spiraled slowly down into warm glow. Jazz moaned softly as his frame relaxed onto the berth, twitching as small aftershocks ran through him, teasing reminders of just how good his mate was. The warmth on top of him, the mate who's field echoed of much the same teasing aftershocks, was purring and lax.

::Love you,:: Prowl mumbled, only vaguely coherent as he began to recover in no real hurry.

Jazz shivered, warmed by the words. He nuzzled gently at Prowl, the motion a warm, easy gesture of affection as they both enjoyed the peace and company. "Love you too." He whispered softly.

Gradually Prowl lifted his helm to kiss Jazz, soft, lingering and relaxed. ::Sorry. Tired. Need to recharge.::

Jazz nuzzled him again, fingers trailing down Prowl's chest. ::Spark later?:: He asked, hopeful but understanding.

::Definitely,:: Prowl promised, very much meaning it as he withdrew from Jazz's valve and retracted his spike, then slid to one side. ::Want to, just too tired,:: he said, already shutting down.

"Rest well, my love." Jazz murmured softly, stealing one last soft kiss before arranging his frame around Prowl and drifting into recharge himself.

* * *

While Jazz missed waking up to his mate's presence, it was going to be worth it for Prowl's first sight of him post-repairs to be complete with new paint job. Not that Prowl would honestly care, but when Brightouch had contacted him and requested his indulgence to allow one of the Sarpresul's trainees to completely repaint him after his repairs, he was quite willing. Even after he was told that Lapresul Rarelight requested full artistic freedom.

So now he was in the hospital's repainting room, in a private stall with the Sarpresul standing back in a corner, watching Rarelight as she had carefully stripped Jazz down to base metal, applied the primer, laid out all the tools and colors she would need while it dried and then went to work. With mirrors all around, it was easy for Jazz to watch the emerging design and despite the number of bright and metallic paints laid out for use, she seemed to be going with much of his original back and white.

Jazz forced himself to not fidget when Rarelight went over a recently repaired area, the section of plating still tender enough to make the application of the new paint tickle. 

"So why'd you choose me for a living canvas?" Jazz asked, curious and little teasing as he tilted his helm to follow the femme in the one of the mirrors.

"When we painted you for your first dinner at the palace you were so very agreeable to trusting Sarpresul Brightouch's judgment, and with your injuries you would need a complete repaint anyway, it seemed perfect," she smiled nervously at him, though her hand was perfectly steady as she drew a diagonal line between the black and white on his back. Now it traveled from his right shoulder to his left hip, and he could see how the line would wrap around his hip to zigzag around his leg.

"And you thought my old look could use a little improvement?" Jazz continued his line of questioning while letting his field drift, laced with approval for what she had done so far.

"Umm, well, yes," Rarelight said, taking courage from his good mood. "You already designed changes to go with your repairs. Even if you decide you don't care for this paintjob, it can open the conversation for changes. Your original was simple, but it has so much potential for attractive highlights. From the simple cross-fading we did that time to the more elaborate boarders and trim I'm going to include here."

"So back to the sharp lines." Jazz noted, following the clear divider line that she had traced between the two contrasting colors that had been the main components of his coloration for as long as he could remember. "It'll be fun to go back to that."

Idly he wondered what Prowl was going to think of the changes that Jazz was actually rather enjoying watching evolve. They were different from the look he had started to adopt since coming to Praxus, this look bold and almost flashy compared to the more subtle approach that Jazz had been taking in the walking the line between trying to fit in better and remaining himself.

"This is just the base pattern," she told him, her hands steady and relaxed in the way of a person who had a clear vision and confidence in their ability to create it. "I'll apply the cross-fading in some areas later, along with the boarder design. The highlights and trim not along a boarder will come last."

As he watched, she worked to his chest and began to apply a squared off curling design created with a single line that he belatedly recognized as one of the classical boarder designs in Praxus. A meander border, he thought it was called. It nearly made his processor hurt to follow the design created in bright blue, then filled in with an iridescent pale blue.

"Is this all free-form, or do you actually sit down and sketch some of it out first?" He asked as he obediently shifted just a tiny bit to give her better access to the area she was working on closer to his side.

"I had to sketch it all out and then apply it to a practice form for Sarpresul Brightouch's approval before you were asked if you would allow me to apply it," she explained as she added a fine line of deep blue between the two paler blues of the boarder. "I don't need to do that for myself though. I have the upgrades for a frame artist already."

"She has the natural talent and displayed the dedication to earn them so young," Brightouch said from his vantage point.

"Good for you." Jazz commented, his field reaching out a little more as he tried to get a feel for the age and the nature of the femme working on him. Calm, focused, just a bit nervous in the background, and young. She was younger than he was, though settled in her adult frame. She wasn't giving much else though. She was too focused on what she was doing.

Which, at the moment, was applying the cross-fading to the zigzag boarder between black and white to Jazz's left leg. When she finished with that, she moved on to applying small stripes of color to his hood and roof, then got a small stand so she could work on his helm easier. Ticklishly light brush stroked caressed his new swept sensor horns, giving them a stripe of green that match his optics along the front center line. A line of bright red to match his hood, roof and shoulders was applied just above his visor, then toned down with an iridescent topcoat and a line of dark blue above that. She even applied a very fine shimmer gloss to his lip plates.

Throughout the entire procedure Jazz managed to remain almost perfectly still, finally compromising by allowing his fingers to twitch whenever she hit a spot that made him want to react. Which around his helm was a great deal of the time.

"Almost done," Rarelight promised as she applied the final line of color down the center of his helm. He couldn't really see what she was creating, but he could feel it. Delicate strokes of an abstract pattern with colors that were all very close to the black of his normal color. "All right, if you would enter the sealant room we can apply the protective layer, then the waxing."

Jazz headed that way as soon as she stepped back, pausing just before the entrance to take another look. He leaned in closer to the mirror, his field vibrating with an extra layer of happiness at the fine gold highlight that she had applied to Prowl's designation where it once more graced Jazz's helm.

He muffled a sigh as he stepped into the sealant chamber. Out of everything involved in getting body work done, this was the part he disliked. Even if it only lasted for a few kliks, the temporary feeling of sticky as the sealant was applied, then the heat treatment to cause the bonding and hardening, was _annoying_.

And he had forgotten that it was even worse with new repairs still integrating.

The spray apply of wax that came next was nearly as bad, but at least it finished with the pleasurable event that was being rubbed down and polished. She was good at that too, and incredibly patient. Far more patient that Jazz was with himself. It was a little different when someone else was doing the work, and Jazz found himself relaxing and allowing himself to just enjoy the attention.

When she was finished, he was motioned to look at himself in the mirrors. It was amazing how different he looked, even though he was still 90% black and white. The lines and small designs of color made him stand out, but in this city, would also let him fit in more where bright colors and decoration were common.

Jazz turned slowly, studying his reflection from every angle and with great care. He could feel the tension in the Artisia behind him, and finally he turned to smile at her. "I am impressed. Thank you for the design."

He hoped that his mate would be impressed as well, that he would have more good words to pass along to the young artist.

"Thank you," she smiled brightly. "If you ever desire a new look, I have many ideas."

Brightouch hummed, and she immediately demurred.

"Thank you for indulging us, Conjunx Praesul," Brightouch bowed his wings gracefully, a move that Rarelight copied, though her bow was much deeper before she followed her mentor from the room. It left Jazz alone to examine his new look in close detail.

Finally satisfied, and more than a little eager to get back home to his mate, Jazz stepped out into the hall and into the presence of the guard that was always present now when he was out in public. "Well?" He asked Strongwing, spreading arms some so the other mech would have a good view.

"You look good," the larger than average Praxian triple changer rumbled. "Simple basic pattern with detailed highlights."

"Good. Now I just hope Prowl agrees, since I rather like it myself." Jazz said. With twitch of his armor, another attempt to get 'new' to fall into place like the comfortable 'old' did, Jazz looked up at his guard. "Ready to go?"

"Always," Strongwing rumbled and easily followed Jazz out. While Jazz transformed to drive, Strongwing took his rotor alt to guard from above. Though Jazz understood, and for now appreciated, the protection, he was still very grateful when he finally got inside the temple walls and Strongwing faded into the population once more. Here he still believed he was safe. Even those who made no secret that they did not like him had been horrified at he'd been attacked and damaged. It had been processor-opening for him, to realize that while mecha may speak badly about him, even to him, there was a deeply ingrained line that would not be crossed. At least not within his normal social circles.

The comfort he had found in that revelation still struck him as a little odd, but it was growing easier to accept. He still intended to enroll in some of the self defense classes that the temple offered, but even that thought was pushed to the back of his processor as he headed in and upward to the quarters he shared with his mate.

It was already late in the orn, and after being gone for almost five orns Jazz had no idea what his mate's schedule looked like, or if Prowl was currently busy. For something as unimportant as Jazz simply being home, he could wait for his mate to return. It would actually be a rather nice way to slip into the normal routine again.

Besides, he hoped it would be worth the look on Prowl's face when he got his first good look at Jazz's makeover.

He heard the lift door open, and wasn't _that_ a wonderful thing, after he'd gotten energon laid out and settled into his favorite lounge to read and browse the temple's interior network for anything important that had happened in his absence.

"It is good to see you there again," Prowl's low purr was deep and warm when he entered the library.

"It is good to be _home_ again." Jazz replied, the glyph layered with so many different meanings as he rose to greet his mate, the datapad he had been scanning forgotten on the lounge. All of his attention was focused on Prowl, nervous anticipation of how his mate was going to react vibrating through him.

"You look good," Prowl purred into a long, slow and passionate kiss. "Are you happy with it? All of it?"

"It's not a look I would have chosen for myself, trying to adapt to be here. But I like it. A lot." Jazz admitted from where he was still wrapped in Prowl's arms.

"Good," Prowl hummed as he gently began stroking Jazz's back, then reached one hand up to caress his thumb along the base of a new sensor horn. "And your repairs are settling well?"

"Very well." Jazz purred, his entire frame melting into the touch that he had missed so much.

Prowl smiled and began to stroke the longer, more slender sensory horn as he guided Jazz to the lounge and settled with the smaller mech against him. His thumb never left the horn it was stroking, while his field expressed his pleasure at the reaction, repairs and new look. "You are lovely, my Jazz."

"I'll have to make sure to pass your approval along. She was so hopeful." Jazz commented as he snuggled into the welcoming arms. He had missed being here, warm and secure and purring from Prowl's touch. His field spread to blend with his mate's, wrapping them both in a warm blanket.

"She has a good processor for what will suit a mecha," Prowl purred at the peaceful, contented sensations flowing into him. "I look forward to what else she convinces you to wear over the vorns."

"So I have found a new purpose- living practice canvas." Jazz teased from where he rested, his optics dimming in pleasure at the stroking of his sensor horn and the warmth of his mate. "I think I can live with that."

"So long as you enjoy it," Prowl smiled down, enjoying the way such a simple touch could make his mate relax.


	12. Sharing Peace

Jazz paced the library, more nervous than he likely should be, but nervous all the same. A small part of him hoped that Prowl would not be able to honor Jazz's request, made almost a metacycle ago, to take half an orn off.

There was nothing else to get ready though, nothing else he could prepare, and an even greater part of him wanted to share the cumulative efforts of a century of passion, effort, and work.

So he waited, and he paced, until he heard the lift come to a stop and the doors slide open.

"You made it." He said, the words and his field full of the thanks he always felt when Prowl went out of his way to make extra time for Jazz.

"Yes, I did," Prowl smiled and drew Jazz close, his field welcoming and warm.

Jazz's was just as welcoming as he hugged and kissed his mate, field brushing against Prowl's in delighted greeting. This time though, there was an underlying excitement, mixed with nervous tension.

"We don't have to go right to what you wanted to show me," Prowl offered with a gentle kiss.

Jazz nuzzled him for another kiss, this one of thanks, before he stepped back, keeping Prowl's hand in his own and leading his mate back in the direction of the lift. "Nah. Got plenty to show you. Don't want to have to rush it."

He was still vibrating as they stepped back on the lift and Jazz palmed the level he wanted. A level he had never seen Prowl on. Just below the Barasi's quarters, the retreat of the Conjux Prasul.

It was a very short trip, the door opening into a normal looking entrance way that Jazz tugged his mate into before making a request. "Turn your optics off?"

Prowl's teeked of curiosity but complied, turning a bit more focus on Jazz as his guide. Once he felt his mate was comfortable Jazz led Prowl forward, guiding him through the entry and into the central room of the half floor quarters. He reached around, taking a firmer hold of Prowl and guided the Praxian to exactly where he wanted.

Venting forcefully enough that the warm air brushed against Prowl, Jazz looked around one more time. "Okay. You can look."

Prowl powered up his optics and took in a crystal landscape that looked like it had been plucked right out of one of the unmanicured temple gardens, though scaled down some to fit in the large room. Crystal trees, shrubs and spears all seemed to grow where they wished, though Prowl knew without question each and every item was purposefully placed.

"Amazing," Prowl murmured as he took in what a century had done to what had once been a very normal and largely empty space.

The mech beside him teeked of delight and relief at the approval. Jazz stepped away a bit so that Prowl would have plenty of room to look where he pleased. "I've wanted to show you for a while, but it never seemed quite ready."

"Is this where you bring the crystals when they leave your workspace?" Prowl asked as he took in the specialized lights, the winding path, the large rock and utter lack of anything other than the lighting that seemed to be crafted by a mech.

"Some of them." Jazz said, reaching out take Prowl's hand again. "Some of them have found their way into the temple gardens. Some of them are here in other rooms. Some of the ones out here have never been upstairs."

"This took a great deal of dedication to create," Prowl said softly, still rather awed by it all.

Joy at his mate's reaction, and pure pleasure that something he had enjoyed creating so much pleased and even _impressed_ his mate, a mech who touched Primus himself, rippled through Jazz. 

"Thank you. I created it to share, if you want." Jazz offered, hopeful. At first this place had been his retreat, but now he wanted to share the peace he had found with the mech that mattered most to him.

"I am honored," Prowl tore his focus from the display to his mate and leaned in to kiss him gently. "This is amazing."

His mate purred into the kiss, tilting his helm to nuzzle his mate's helm when they parted. "Want to see more?"

"Absolutely," Prowl smiled warmly. "I would like to see all you would show me."

Jazz smiled back at him, eager and excited as he pulled Prowl along, pointing out little things here and there. Starts that had come from the temple gardens. One that had been a gift from Lord Evenway. Another spire that he had traded a delicate spike atari mini for with a collector in one of his clubs.

The tour ended on one of the side paths, the door sliding away to reveal a smaller room. Whats its original purpose might have been was anyone's guess, but now it served as room for Jazz's miniatures and Prowl was treated to an impressive display. Unlike the rest of the apartment, this one had normal shelves and work surfaces. Some were occupied by miniatures, others by works in progress, and after a moment Prowl recognized several crystals that Jazz had won prizes with over the vorns.

"Just one of my workrooms." Jazz said, hugging Prowl from behind and looking around his mate at the room. "The one over there on the far table is my current project. It might make it into one of the near festivals, if it keeps coming along so nice."

The crystal arrangement in question was a small branching crystal. Fine wires supported various angles, and small shaping tools were scattered around the decorative square container that housed the crystal's core base.

"It should do well," Prowl hummed softly and leaned into his mate's embrace.

"Have more to show you." Jazz said with a smile, snuggling against his mate and not in any real hurry to rush to the next room. This was turning into a wonderful time and a good choice, and his spark was singing with joy.

"Whenever you are ready," Prowl purred. "Thank you for showing me your space."

"I'm glad you like it. Now you know where most of my spending goes." Jazz admitted as he led Prowl back into the central garden and down the path to the next room.

"I never checked," Prowl admitted. "There is an alert set if the account is overdrawn. Other than that, they are your shanix. I did not want to make you feel as if I was watching your every step. I know others do so and would bring it to me if there was a need. I am under the same scrutiny."

"Standard crystal workroom." Jazz announced as he led his mate inside, his field flickering with anticipation this time.

Prowl turned his helm, scanning the room. This one was larger than the room Jazz had devoted to his atari, allowing him to work with and grow standard sized crystals. Some were in what he recognized as 'working pots'- starts that would be transplanted somewhere else once they were established and able to handle the rigors of ornly exposure to their new environment.

Others were in more permanent, decorative containers. Such was the one that owned an entire corner of the room, and has his mate laughing when Prowl noticed it.

"You said at the first Crystal Festival you took me to if I could grow one I could bring it home. When am I moving it and where are we putting it?" Jazz asked as Prowl moved in for a closer inspection of the towering crystal spires standing proudly in a large base container that would blend well with Prowl's usual style of decor.

The square pillars rose to jagged points, some of them over the height of Prowl's helm. The marbleized crystal structures were all clear bases, each shot through with a different color, alive and begging to be touched.

"Anywhere you wish," Prowl said, his white optics bright as his fingers hovered just above the surface. "How did you manage this?"

"Time. Lots and lots of time, mostly." Jazz answered as he came up behind Prowl and reached around to run his fingers over a smooth pillar, his field full of pride. "I've been working on this one since the beginning. If you look close the pillars in the middle aren't as good as the ones farther out. Evenway helped with the start - the central start came from one of the temple gardens, by the way. Then it's mostly been providing the right kind of light and mineral bases for it."

"Where do you wish it?" Prowl asked as he watched and basked in Jazz's field.

"Somewhere we can both enjoy it." Jazz said. "I had thought about moving that extra chair we don't really use out of the library and putting it in that corner. I could hide a light for it on one of the shelves and set it with a timer so it was only on at night."

Prowl hummed his agreement and slid his arms around his mate to enjoy both the sight and teek of Jazz in this place. This really was Jazz's retreat, his escape within the temple, and a place where he had found joy and something that he was good at.

"That's most of what's interesting here." Jazz murmured, relaxing into Prowl's arms and purring softly. "Was it worth taking the time off?"

"Yes," Prowl said honestly. "It was worth it."

"You're welcome here, whenever." Jazz offered quietly. He knew that Prowl would probably have little time, if any, take him up on it.

"Thank you," Prowl murmured with a kiss to an elegantly swept sensor horn.

"Stay here for the rest of the evening? Or do we need to rejoin the temple life?" Jazz asked, teasing but so very content right where he was in the moment.

"We should make an appearance at dinner, but that is all," Prowl murmured, content to relax in this place that Jazz found so comfortable.

"Main room garden then." Jazz prompted, kissing Prowl before he steered his mate from the workroom and towards a large rock that served as both focal point and improvised seating in his retreat. "We have time before then. And I'll deal with moving our arrangement tomorrow."


	13. Praxus at War

After six centuries in Praxus, Jazz was well adjusted to his new existence. While he still wasn't politically active, he was social and many of the younglings he'd cared for when he first arrived were now with very young creations of their own that they entrusted to the care center, and by extension to him. Those who disliked him were simply a fact of existence and both sides had come to an uneasy peace about it.

All in all, it was a good existence as far as Jazz was concerned. Even taking energon in the dinning hall was now an enjoyable event. This meal was like all others, sedate, full of news, conversation and temple discussion among the older mecha and lessons as the younger ones quizzed each other on what they needed to know.

That all ended in a sparkbeat when Prowl and all six Archipresuls went stiff, shock rippling through their frames as they looked at each other. Before Jazz could ask, Prowl linked the comm they had received into the PA system.

"Priority One News. The village of Anisra was leveled last night. No known survivors. Patrol unit 89-742-03 discovered and pursued the attackers described as a large military force of mixed and indeterminate origin. Contact lost two joors ago. Prepare for a state of war."

The message began to loop, put on a simple repeat with no additional details.

 _State of War_. That was a term Jazz remembered from when he had first arrived at the temple. That time felt like an entirely different functioning, and it took him a moment to recall even the beginning of the implications of that statement.

He knew that it was not limited to the temple, but a state that affected the entire city. His attention shifted to focus in completely on his mate, excusing himself quickly from where he had been talking with Honor and moving closer to the Barasi and the Archipresuls. The seven had abandoned the idea of fueling to put their helms together, hardlines linked in an intricate web that centered on Prowl. While the general population began talking animatedly about what happened and what was likely to happen, the leadership was absolutely silent. Yet Jazz knew Prowl well enough to recognize that powerful processor was in overdrive and using his Archipresuls as additional processor power while drawing on their memories and knowledge. 

Jazz settled in to listen, gathering as much information as he could just from what he could overhear. And what he was hearing was starting to trouble him, frame going tense and field pulling in closer. He remembered that the priests played an important role among the armed forces when the city was in a state of war, but from what he was hearing, it was more than just support. His own mate was expected to _lead_ the Praxian forces. From the front lines, no less.

Suddenly the amount of attention priests paid to their ability to fight came into a very different focus. It was self-defense, yes, but not self-defense against the citizens they mingled with every orn. It was self-defense against trained military warriors.

Jazz had taken all of the classes that Prowl had wanted him to attend. Nothing like that attack that he had suffered in his earliest vorn should happen again.

He had even continued on, taking a course here and there to both continue his learning and to maintain what he had learned. What he had learned had no place on the battlefield, and Jazz was bitterly faced with the realization that he would very likely be forbidden to join Prowl. Nor did he really have any right to be there, as much as he might wish otherwise, and it was entirely on him. He had chosen not to pursue martial arts any further than self-defense. 

As suddenly as it began, the gathering around Prowl broke up and the leaders returned to their seats. Without needing to be told, the room stilled quickly.

"Beginning tonight, all priests will shift to war-time duties and priority trees," Prowl spoke calmly and firmly. "Assignments will be posted before morning prayers. All of lapresul rank and above should be prepared to move out after morning prayers the next orn."

A ripple of acceptance and acknowledgement went through the room, most of the mecha there hearing only what they had expected.

That settled, Prowl sat down and turned his attention to his cube and to the uneasy mech next to him. "You will remain in Praxus. You are not prepared to go to war with us."

"I know." Jazz admitted the truth, though his stress and tension only grew with the admission. "I never processed that you would be leading the forces if the city was threatened though."

"Warriors fight far better when they know their Barasi believes in the conflict enough to lead them," Prowl said quietly. "I can make judgment calls that very few are legally allowed to."

"Would have worked harder, if I had understood." Jazz offered very softly.

He didn't want to fight. He found no joy in combat, or aggressive action. He liked competition, but he liked competition when the winner and the loser walked away on good terms, and willing to go at it again.

But he would have gone with Prowl. For Prowl. His Barasi. His mate.

"I know. Your spark is not in the fight. It is best if you remain here and helm care for the younglings," Prowl countered. "If this conflict lasts for long there will be many creators going to work that would normally remain home to raise their creations. Caring for those creations is critical work."

Jazz smiled at his mate, his field reaching out to touch Prowl's with affection and thanks. "You always have an answer, don't you?"

"It is one of my duties to give that impression," Prowl said softly as amusement at the truth flickered through his field. "It often matters more than the truth."

"The announcement- what did it mean? How much do we actually know?" Jazz asked, seeking more details and forcing himself to finish fueling.

"What is currently known was in the announcement," Prowl explained quietly. "At a minimum, airborne scouts will be sent out to look for troop movements and guard the boarder. Military units will be stationed closer to the boarder in preparation for a sighting. Training will intensify. Within the next few orns orders will begin being placed to replace the expected losses in mecha and equipment."

"And you will be leaving the morning after next?" Jazz asked.

"I will not be, unless the invaders have been spotted and their camp found by then. Given the lack of survivors in the unit that chased them, it is very unlikely to be found so quickly," Prowl explained. "There is a great deal to be done in the city before the army rolls out."

Jazz nodded and relaxed a little at that, relieved that his mate was not going away right away, and focused once more on finishing his energon and the emotion and actions of those around him.

* * *

Three orns. Only three orns since the news of the initial attack and already Jazz was stressed and agitated from the changes in the temple.

He was doing his best to go with it, accepting the changes that affected him directly gracefully, and following what of the normal schedule- mostly prayers and meals- that were still in operation.

Prowl had at least been right in that there was plenty for him to do in helping with the sparkling care. Already the average population of the center had doubled, and there was talk of temporarily converting some of the other spaces to accommodate the shifting population.

What weighted most on Jazz's spark was hidden from the rest of the mecha he interacted with. The sparklings did not know how his spark cringed at the thought that each orn when he went home Prowl would not be coming to join him eventually.

The younglings did not know how much Jazz feared that when his mate did leave he would not return.

The mechlings in the tutoring sessions had no idea that Jazz wondered if his own world would come to an end before the conflict ended.

The mecha he worked with might have guessed, but they thankfully said nothing of Prowl's going, or where he was going and what he was going to do.

Some of them were scheduled to leave themselves, and even those who were staying were faced with having to bid farewell to friends and comrades.

All of that weighed on Jazz as he nodded to priest on duty in the care center and took his leave for the orn. The same silence continued on the ride up the lift, and while he cleaned up and prepared the energon he wasn't even sure his mate was going to be back to consume.

He was tense enough that even when the lift door opened, he didn't relax. That could be a messenger come to tell him the army had moved out and his mate was gone. Though it wouldn't be her duty, he hoped that when it did happen, it would be Honor that came to tell him. She wasn't among those scheduled to leave and she was remaining at the main temple. Her function as an akiani, a teacher, was far more important to preserve and have in Praxus than her function as a priest was in the field.

It wasn't until the library door slid open and he _saw_ Prowl that Jazz felt himself relax a bit. He had one more night with his mate.

The vent that escaped him was audible, and Jazz walked over to fall into his mate's arms, holding Prowl close as his field wrapped around his mate, full of welcome, relief, and worry.

"So much concern," Prowl's voice was as gentle as his field and arms that wrapped around Jazz in reply. "This should not bother you so much."

"It involves you, and potential danger." Jazz countered softly, lifting his helm to brush against Prowls. "I'm not sure I'm worrying enough."

There was a flicker of out-right non-comprehension in Prowl's field. "Why does my potential deactivation concern you so much?"

"Because I love you. Because you are my mate." Jazz countered, emotion swirling through his field. What he felt for Prowl in his very spark. New fear. Old fear. "Because without you I am nothing."

"No." Prowl's response was firm and even, but his spark howled through his field in a nearly savage denial. "You are Jazz. Your worth and value is not dependent on my survival."

Jazz smiled at him, strangely calmer in the face of his mate's reaction. "I am Jazz. Mate of the Barasi of Praxus. Mate of Prowl, who I love. You see me as more, where many others do not."

"The law sees you as more as well," Prowl insisted. "You have rights beyond what I give you, beyond a title."

"I'm sure it does. I'd rather not have to find out what they are, all the same." Jazz kissed him again before tugging him in the direction of the waiting energon and the routine that was familiar and comforting. "It doesn't give me you, either."

"True," Prowl accepted both statements and the guiding hand to the lounge where he pulled Jazz close to him for their evening energon. "You will have to learn eventually. It would be welcome if it was not so soon."

"I will look into them. After you are home." Jazz said, the emphasis clear that his spark held every faith that his bonded would return to him, despite the fear his processor liked to throw at him.

"Then I will explain anything that does not make sense, when I come home," Prowl murmured. It wasn't a promise. He would not promise what he could not deliver. It was, however, a clear statement of intent to come home, alive and well. "Is there anything else that is distressing you?"

There were several kliks of quiet internal searching. "Not really." Jazz finally admitted, his field containing a hint of amusement. All of his fears, all of his concerns, were based around the mech that currently held him close. And it was rather hard to focus on other things surrounded by all of the warmth, welcome, and comfort that was his bonded to him.

"Good," Prowl kissed the shield on his forehelm. "I would like to have a happy mate when I return, not a nervous wreck of one."

Jazz laughed and nudged Prowl's helm for another kiss, equal and full of passion. "Either way you will have a happy mate on your return."

"Good," Prowl purred into the kiss, responding easily and eagerly to the passion on offer. It would likely be the last he had until his return that wasn't a duty to someone.

"Enjoy tonight, while we can?" Jazz requested softly, question if Prowl had the energy. The desire was there, he knew. But there were many things being demanded right now of the mech he loved.

"I would like that very much," Prowl's attention shifted to a blatant effort to arouse his mate with knowing fingers that slid along Jazz's armor, dipping into seams.

The attention drew a whimper from his mate, Jazz shivering at the touch. "What do you want?" He asked as he tilted his helm to mouth and nip at his lover's neck.

"Everything," Prowl moaned as his helm tilted back. "Your spike, valve, spark. I want to feel your passion."

"All for you." Jazz stated between soft kisses. He shifted, pushing Prowl over until he was straddling his mate's hips, looking down into the brilliant white optics. "Let me ride you. Please."

"Anytime," Prowl moaned, his hips pressing into that welcome, enticing heat as his spike cover slid back.

"Love how you feel inside me." Jazz said as one hand slipped between them, fingers circling the spike housing enticingly. It extended, willing and eager into his hand with a deep moan from Prowl. 

"You feel so good to be inside. Slick, hot and so very eager with your passion," the Praxian shivered as his iron self control fell away. Now he could just be a mech with desires, quirks and a lover who indulged him. In this, it was easy to forget that Jazz was given no choice in their legal bond. The mech _wanted_ to be here now, and Prowl reveled in his bright life and passion.

"The best." Jazz purred, his fingers teasing and stroking along the familiar spike as it emerged into his touch. His valve cover slid back, adding to the anticipation in them both.

Prowl moaned and pressed into the touch, shameless in his desire before this mech. It took only a quarter klik before he was fully extended, pressurized and moaning in need with his optics off, utterly submissive to his mate's ministrations.

"You're so beautiful." Jazz whispered, rising up over his mate and guiding his mate's spike to his valve. He settled slowly, savoring the stretch and sensation of his mate entering him. "Beautiful everywhere. Here-" teasing fingers stroked along Prowl's frame, finding armor gaps from memory.

"Here-" The same hand traveled up to run across Prowl's helm, and the brilliant processors he possessed.

"Here-" Down Prowl's chest, hovering over the bright, pure spark Jazz knew resided there.

"And here." Jazz moaned as their interface arrays met, and his valve rippled around his mate's spike. It felt impossibly good to have his mate inside him, to feel that field _inside_ his frame as well as against it. The pleasure echoed back and forth until Prowl made a needy sound and rolled his hips up to push Jazz upward so he could pull out a bit and thrust back in for a bit more stimulation.

Jazz only laughed at the sound, his voice full of amusement and delight as he obediently began to move, rising and falling in a smooth, controlled rhythm on his mate. The sounds it drew from Prowl, the picture of his mate spread before him, open and willing and so beautiful.

It was a bliss that went to Jazz's very spark and radiated back out in his field for Prowl to feel as well. In response he felt Prowl's pleasure rise, and the joy the priest experienced at giving pleasure in such an honest way.

"Beautiful," Prowl murmured, his hands on Jazz's hips and optics dim as he watched his mate move, their pleasure rising in unison and shared as the mutual blessing it was intended to be.

"Yes, you are." Jazz agreed with a smile, valve squeezing the spike filling him in a pattern that he had perfected during their time together. "And you feel so good. Inside of me. Around me. When you let go and overload in me, filling me even more."

With a low moan of desire Prowl reached a hand up to Jazz's neck to guide their forehelms together while he began to thrust upwards a little faster, seeking to drive deeper into his lover.

His mate obliged, back arching and hips driving down to match the pattern Prowl set. "Let go for me." Jazz requested softly, wanted to see and feel that bliss from his lover before he tumbled over the edge.

Just those words, the intent behind them, was enough to make Prowl shudder and surrender his hold on the pleasure. He gasped with his next thrust, his entire frame quivering with the charge already built up. On the next roll of his hips his hand came down from Jazz's neck to grip his hip, giving Prowl almost full control as he guided the rhythm to match his needs. Deep and hard, he used his arms to add the force his hips were denied by the position until he roared into a long keen, his frame all but arched off the lounge as he pumped the evidence of his pleasure into his mate.

Jazz rode the bliss, reveling in his mate's pleasure until he was carried away in it, his own overload crackling through him more softly, and leaving him looking down at Prowl in sweet, foggy contentment as his lover smiled up at him.

"Have enough energy to make it to our berth, or should I carry you?" Prowl purred.

"You may carry me." Jazz informed him graciously, then smiled and added. "Just so I have enough energy to take your valve while I play with those amazing sensor wings of yours when we get there."

Prowl chuckled and shifted so he was sitting up with Jazz draped across his lap before standing with his mate in his arms and walked steadily to the berthroom.

"So good to me." Jazz purred, nuzzling and teasing at Prowl's neck the entire way.

"Only as good as you deserve," Prowl purred as he set Jazz down on the large berth, then climbed on it to kneel with his chest on the berth, helm on crossed arms, long sensor wings angled back and knees spread. "You are very good to me."

"My love. My desire." Was the honest answer, Jazz's field spreading around his mate as he slid up behind the Praxian, frame molding to fit around Prowl's from behind. For a klik he indulged himself, glossa and fingers playing the graceful sensor wings displayed for him. They pressed into his touch, Prowl sharing the pleasure it generated freely with his voice and field. 

Despite the arousal, Prowl was no hurry to advance it. So Jazz drew this out as he had not their last overload, teasing and worshiping every inch of the sensor wings until he had worked his way down to Prowl's valve, glistening and exposed for him. The platelets were fluttering, creating a small ripple of movement around the opening.

"So beautiful." Jazz breathed as leaned in, glossa brushing over the platelets before dipping in to tease at the valve. He was rewarded by a moaning shiver that passed through Prowl's entire frame as Prowl shifted his hips to press into the light contact a little more.

Jazz obliged him for a little longer, then shifted upward with a moan of his own. "So beautiful." His repeated, the glyph expansive as he slid his spike into the welcoming tight heat of his mate.

There was no hurry in the motion, only a desire to feel. To give and receive pleasure and enjoy this moment. 

It was a sentiment that Prowl willingly responded to. He rippled his valve around the welcome thickness sliding in and out, stroking and squeezing in turn in a complex rhythm as he moaned and thrust his field into Jazz with a pleasure-drenched counter-rhythm to the thrusts.

"Beautiful. My beautiful. My love." Jazz moaned, the bulk of his attention shifting back to the wonderful sensor wings in his reach, and the pleasure they added.

So far from the first time that they had tried this. It had felt good then. Now it was perfect. The mech he had feared, almost resented, was the center of his of his functioning by his own desire, another gift from his bonded.

"Love you." Jazz moaned, loosing some of his control with the memories and thrusting harder, wanting a deeper connection and seeking it the only way he could from this position.

"Love...." Prowl moaned, shuddering as the charge began to steal his ability to think coherently. His focus was on the intense pleasure of the charge building inside his valve and along his wings as he rocked into the blissful contact.

A glossa joined the fingers working the surface of his wings as Jazz gave up on speaking as well. His frame was burning against Prowl's back, hot air rushing from his vents as keened his love's designation with his overload, grinding their frames together and burying the rush of charged transfuild deep in his lover's valve. Prowl's reply came in the form of a high keen as energy shimmered across his frame, jumping to Jazz's everywhere they touched in a cycle that heightened both their pleasure.

Slowly Prowl sank down, the air shimmering around them from the heat as they struggled to regain coherency in the wake of a second good overload in such a short time.

It wasn't coherency that drove Jazz to move, only the desire to be snuggled close to Prowl as he pulled out and shifted to one side, burrowing under the lax sensor wing and against the still warm frame of his mate.

"Still share sparks?" He finally asked once the leftover shocks had settled to a warm glow that that would allow higher functions to work as well.

"Mmm, I would like that," Prowl purred with a nuzzled and lazy roll to his back while he pulled Jazz over him. His mate went easily with the motion, sprawling comfortably on top of Prowl and nuzzling at the red mech's chest plates. "Best feeling ever." Jazz purred softly.

"It is," Prowl shivered in anticipation and unlocked his chest plates. His hands slid down Jazz's back, then up his sides to caress the black and white chest plates and their distinctive thin stripes of bright color.

"It's yours." Jazz smiled, plates parting beneath Prowl's fingers with the slightest touch and the blue light of his spark already sliding forward to dance over his mate's frame. Prowl's spark replied, the brilliant white light bathing Jazz's face and internals as it reached out to caress its mate with gentle affection and calmness that exemplified his nature to the core.

Jazz quivered at the feel, the sight, the sensation. He had meant to draw this out as he had tried with everything else. To create memories so that he would have something to hold when- he was well past believing in the chance of an 'if'- his mate was called away.

But this was too close, too warm. It called to him, to his spark, and he had no desire to fight the call. With a keen of need he fell forward, spark reaching out to caress and surround and feel that which it wanted. 

Prowl helped him control the fall but otherwise relaxed as their sparks reached for each other. Several younger priests or their long-term lovers had needed similar reassurances that came with touching the spark that would lead them into battle, but this merge was special to him. This was his mate, a mech who did not have a strong sense of the after.

This spark touched his, caressing it with love, affection, and desire. The desire for Prowl to know and acknowledge that he was loved for who he was- not the Barasi, not arguably the most important mech in Praxus- but as a mech with a lover who adored him.

~Love you.~ The blue spark sang. It felt the warmth of the pure white light reply, accepting the gift of love without question, without hesitation and preen just a little that it was valued so. A spark that had been called to serve the people and adored what it did was not one that could grasp such personal loyalty easily, but deep down where every spark wanted to be _special_ Jazz could feel that Prowl knew, understood, and was working towards accepting that it was a good thing _for him_.

~Care for you.~ Prowl sang softly in reply. Yet despite the words, the emotional attachment was growing. _Care_ no longer meant care for this spark as any other, for Prowl did care for every spark. Care was beginning to be personal attachment, and it frightened the processors that the white spark powered.

 _Enough. More than enough._ Jazz's spark promised his love with everything that it was. It had been given so much, it would not push for more. There was too much joy in what it had, as it even now still found what it did best. ~Just want to spend tonight with you.~ Jazz murmured to his lover over the connection that was already starting to go fuzzy with pleasure.

~Wish to spend every night with you,~ Prowl, spark and processors, answered without hesitation. He _liked_ Jazz's company. He _enjoyed_ Jazz's company. He felt the absence when Jazz was not there.

A matching desire filled with warmth and welcome met his words, and with a surrender of self that had only ever been offered to Prowl. Peace and pleasure flowed across the connection, adding to the rapidly growing pleasure as it was accepted, reveled in and replied to in a cycle that only ended when both frames keened and cried out before shutting down.

Only when their frames forced them to part did the two sparks reluctantly separate to their own frames.

* * *

With a soft vent Jazz backed into the shadows a little, letting another one of the temple mecha take over monitoring the large group they had brought to the play garden for the orn for a bit.

With as many sparklings and younglings as the temple was now having to watch, the only way to see to them was large group outings to places like this. While a few had a creator serving on the front lines, even just two decaorns after Prowl lead led the army to hunt down their attackers many creations no longer had a full-time creator at home. The upswing in industry was processor-blowing to Jazz. That is went so smoothly and with little complaint warned him that as peaceful as Praxus was, it had a well-honed war machine that the entire population believed in supporting and an intensity of backlash that was probably why no one was that keen on starting trouble with them.

It was not the extra work that was draining on Jazz. The creations enjoyed the playtime and protested their education time just like they always had. Only now it was multiplied in stereo.

No, what had begun to wear on Jazz even more than the fact that his mate was gone was mecha's assumption that as the Conjux Presul and mate of the Barasi Jazz was somehow privy to more information than was provided to the general public.

The real truth was that Jazz hadn't spoken to his mate since he had bid Prowl goodbye. And he couldn't run and hide from the demanding questions, or the accusatory looks that followed when no information was provided.

No care that his mate was there as well, in danger and away from home. Or that Jazz was doing his best to continue on and work extra to keep Praxus running. Only the assumption that he was holding out on them.

And it _hurt_.

It hurt even more when it had finally come out that all that expectation came from the assumption that he was bonded to his mate and thus would know long before anyone else who didn't have a bonded in command out there.

The looks he got with admission were as mixed as any. Many were surprised, some suspicious, some relieved and approving, some neutral. Those last were the easiest to deal with, and thankfully no matter what the reaction mecha backed off once that truth was out.

"Hi," a slightly nervous but determined to be friendly voice drew Jazz's attention to an average sized Iaconian mech, which meant the stranger was a solid three helms taller than Jazz was.

"'ello." Jazz responded, frame relaxing in the face of the mecha's nervousness. Reflexively his field reached out in welcome, calm and at ease. His optics automatically scanned the playing creations before returning to the stranger. "One of the yours?"

"Not yet," the Iaconian smiled shyly at the friendly response. "I'm watching my bonded's brother's creation while he and his bonded are at work. Even now there aren't many jobs for us, but I can take care of the clan's young and property at least."

"Anything that we can do to help is usually viewed in our favor, at least. How long have you been in Praxus?" Jazz asked, relaxing to lean against the wall whose shadow he had retreated too. "I'm Jazz, by the way."

"Three and a half vorns," he relaxed a bit more. "I'm Geerdrive, bonded of Sprysong," he introduced himself and his bonded on pure reflex, having already learned that being known as the bonded of a native helped more often than not. "Have you lived here long?" he glanced at the shield on Jazz's forehelm, recognizing it for what it was, even if he couldn't read it.

"Six centuries, going on seven. Long enough to learn my way around, and that we will never really fit in." Jazz informed him. "What do you think of Praxus so far?"

"It's lovely, peaceful, wealthy ... they never stop looking like you're an intruder in their home?" Geerdrive asked quietly.

"And they won't." Jazz assured him. "How is your mate?" He asked, probing a little deeper and trying to see if there was any advice that he could offer to make Geardrive's functioning easier. His mate's designation was that of a commoner, but at the upper end and some merchant clans ended up with political arrangements too.

Geerdrive's field warmed instantly, deep affection and happiness radiating from him. "He's wonderful, and so is most of his clan. Sometimes I wonder how they can be from the same culture as the mecha on the street."

"Then the best thing that you can do it take comfort in that." Jazz told him, his own field warming some with understanding. "Love your mate, rely on his clan, and don't worry about the mecha you don't know. It doesn't matter what circle you're in, we'll never be one of them as a whole."

Geerdrive nodded. "That's what Sprysong told me, warned me really. Even with all the looks, I like it here. Do you know anything about the war we're in? All the news I've seen referred to a couple raids by sine civitases."

"That is the main gist of what is going on." Jazz said, shrugging a little in apology. "My mate is on the front lines, but I haven't spoken to him since I told him goodbye. I don't think they are planning on coming back until they have eliminated all possible threats, but no one has any idea how long it is going to take."

Geerdrive was still for a long moment. "No wonder no one wants to mess with Praxus. I always assumed it was to avoid angering Vos and the Seekers. They're really that savage on their own?"

"When it comes to protecting themselves and their own? Yes." Jazz said. "Praxians value deeply, and what they value, they protect."

"It's a peaceful place though, most of the time?" he shifted uneasily. "They don't get like this often, do they?"

"Only when directly threatened. And this is the first time that I've seen war-time. The last time Praxus was at war was almost twelve centuries before I moved here to bond." Jazz said, offering a reassuring smile. "With luck, it will be at least that long before anything like this happens again. If it all."

It was enough that make Geerdrive relax. "Glad to hear that. It would be hard if the place got this jacked up regularly."

"No." Jazz laughed. "Usually the talk is whatever social event is next up on the calendar. I'm hoping this is all cleared up well before the next Crystal Festival, after all the work I've put into a couple of prospective entries."

"Would the festival be canceled if this mess is still going on?"

"Not something as important as that. But it still wouldn't be the _same_." Jazz sighed, straightening from his slouch against the wall as he realized it was his turn to take over some of the watching again.

* * *

The quiet at the end of an orn. Jazz welcomed it as he knelt down by the crystals he had moved into the library. He would welcome peace again, but that would not come until Prowl returned.

So for now the library served as his main living area and retreat. The lounge was more comfortable than the large berth alone. And here was the large spire arrangement that Prowl liked so much. Next to it resided two smaller arrangements, one growing wild as it pleased, the other a project very special to Jazz's spark. Caring for them was his nightly routine. Then settling down until he fell into recharge, and doing it all over again. 

Tonight Jazz sat back though, gaze sweeping over the arrangement of three critically before he vented and let his vision dim. He still did not understand the faith his mate had in Primus. The comfort that the Praxian priest took in the intimidate knowledge of the deity that had created them was beyond him. But Jazz believed in Prowl. And if Prowl believed in Primus, could it really hurt that much?

"If you're there, down there, somewhere." Jazz started awkwardly. "Send him home. End this war. He serves you with all his spark. He functions at the beck and call of Praxus. And I _love_ him. Your doing, maybe, since it was the Prime that sent me here. Can't I have just a little of him? Even if it's just to take care of him?"

Maybe it was selfish, but Jazz had a hard time caring. Three metacycles without Prowl, and all he wanted was his mate back. Prowl served Primus and Praxus. And in his own way, Jazz did his best to serve Prowl. His spark was happy there, with the bright center of its small universe.

Words died away, the mumbles growing silent as longing optics started almost unseeing at the crystals.

"Sometimes, the most important lessons are given by being parted," a deep, rich voice answered him quietly.

Jazz jumped, startled. He was so used to being alone here anymore. He had been given no word, no news, and so was momentarily frozen as he stared at the vision in the doorway to the library.

"Prowl?" The question finally came out as the softest of hopeful whispers as he realized the vision was leaning on the doorframe more than standing upright.

"Alive, healthy and finally home," Prowl said, the utter exhaustion and _not quite right_ evident in every line and harmonic of his being. "You?"

Jazz's field spoke more clearly than words as he crossed the short distance to Prowl and took his mate into his arms, supporting him easily. Love, welcome, longing, under all of it how much he had missed Prowl was there for the Praxian to feel as Jazz held him.

"Recharge." Jazz said firmly, his first concern for his mate as he got a better read on Prowl, and his priorities settled themselves. "Energon? Merge? Something else?" He offered as he felt more of the _off_ in his mate.

"Recharge," Prowl gratefully slumped against his mate, his awareness still working its way towards accepting that he was home and _safe_. "Haven't recharged much since we left."

"Then recharge it is." Jazz nuzzled him, comforting and still with joy at having Prowl back as he helped the Praxian to the berthroom and waiting berth. He barely had the red frame settled before he could feel Prowl starting to shut down.

With a sigh of contentment Jazz made sure Prowl was arranged comfortably before settling down himself and holding his mate close, his world well on it's way to be back to right.

Three joors later Jazz snapped to awareness to the teek of emotional pain, confusion and grief tearing into the frame against his as Prowl struggled to pull himself from a memory purge.

"Prowl." Jazz called his lover's designation repeatedly, his voice even and inviting as he took his field and _pushed_ deep into his mate.  
_Home._  
_Safe._  
_Loved._  
"I'm here. You are home. Safe. Prowl."

The priest's vents stuttered, hiccupped, then settled as he came on line enough to grab Jazz and hold him tightly. Prowl's frame trembled even as his processors calmed and he buried his face against his mate's armor.

"I'm here. Love you. Anything you need." Jazz assured him as he held him tight for a klik. Finally he worked a hand loose, caressing Prowl's armor soothingly, comfortingly.

His own spark cried, wanting to comfort. Concerned about whatever could drive his normally confident, vibrant mate to such reactions.

"Just you," Prowl managed through the trembling and soft whimpers as he continued to calm. "Just you. I'd never witnessed slaughter before."

Jazz winced, understanding the horror much more clearly now. A world that he had seen that his mate had not, and all of the pain and confusion that went with trying to understand it.

"I'm here." He repeated. "It's done. Praxus is safe. Because of you, and those who followed you."

"I did what needed to be done," Prowl began to pull himself together, his frame relaxing against his mate's heat and solid presence. "Two thousand, six hundred and ninety eight sparks returned to Primus in a single orn, only three departing with grace. I'd never severed the connection between spark and frame in anger before. I never want to again."

"Then I hope you never have to." Jazz agreed quietly, still stroking Prowl's frame. "You did what needed to be done. And you regret having to do it."

"Yes," Prowl whispered, his optics drifting off at the gentle attention he craved right now. "I missed you, your comfort and steadiness during the long orns."

"But you are here now. And I am yours. Always when you need me, as much as I can be." Jazz assured him. "Missed you while you were gone too, love. Would rather something like this never happen again."

He didn't want to burden his mate with how much he had missed Prowl while the Praxian had been absent. How he had longed for even just a few short kliks of the safe, warm presence.

Now was about Prowl, and what he needed. And what Jazz could give him. That Prowl wanted _him_ , his presence, his comfort, more than that of mecha who no doubt had been through this and understood Prowl's coding far better was a warmth Jazz would never forget. No matter what Prowl called it, Jazz now knew he was loved.

"I missed you more than I believed possible, even with how busy I was," Prowl let out a low sigh and felt his armor begin to relax, just fractionally, for the first time since news of the second raid had come in and he'd driven out with the assault force. "I came to understand something while we were parted," he reached up to caress Jazz's face. "I never wish to be separated from you again."

There was silence as Jazz processed that statement, leaning into the gentle touch that he had missed so much.

"Follow you anywhere." He finally murmured, his field full of promise and devotion. "Even back to Primus."

"I will never ask that of you," Prowl smiled gently. "Primus will keep my spark content until you join me in your own time." He hesitated, one hand cupping Jazz's face. "But I would bond my spark to yours and yours to mine, if you still wish it."

"If I wish-." Disbelief, shock, hope, want- all of it cascaded through Jazz's field in a flood of strong emotion. "Can you?" He finally asked, long ago having accepted that his mate's spark belonged to his duty and the mecha of Praxus, and forced himself to be content with the affection and care that Prowl found for him despite the other demands.

"Yes. There is neither law nor physics baring me," Prowl rubbed his thumb against Jazz's cheek. "I told you after the ceremony that I would only bond my spark out of love. I came to realize while I was away that I do love you. It was only in being parted from both you and my normal support that I came to understand that my desire to be with you is far deeper than I had believed. I was not merely used to your presence and your frame. I have grown to love you over our centuries together."

"Yes. Yes. Yours, always. Whenever you are ready." The dark frame trembled with joy as Jazz leaned into to press his helm to Prowl's, sealing the promise between them. "Love you. If I can be there for you always...it is what I want."

He knew enough of his mate by now to know that was important to Prowl as well, and he wanted there to be no doubt.

"Thank you," Prowl shivered faintly in a wave of relief that relaxed him just a little more. He tipped his helm upwards to claim a kiss, soft and gentle but full of passion despite the exhaustion that was reclaiming its grip on him. "When my spark and frame have recovered from the slaughter and Praxus has relaxed once more, I will schedule the orns off."

"And I'll be here until then, and while you recharge." Jazz assured him, kissing him again as his field wrapped around his mate, warm and protective, urging Prowl back to the rest he needed.

"Love you, Jazz," Prowl whispered as he shut down into disparity needed recharge once more.

"And I love you." Jazz replied, his entire being singing with joy and he held his mate close, content.

**Author's Note:**

> nanoklik = 1/8 second;  
> klik = 496 nanokliks/62 seconds;  
> breem = 8 kliks/8.27 minutes;  
> groon = 9 breem/1.24 hours;  
> joor = 6 groon/7.44 hours;  
> orn = 42 joor/13.02 days;  
> decaorn = 32 orns/1.14 years;  
> metacycle = 8 decaorn/9.22 years;  
> vorn = 9 metacycles/72 decaorn/83 years;  
> ::text:: comm chatter  
> ~text~ hardline/bond chatter
> 
> Prowl: <http://alteride.deviantart.com/art/Commission-Resonance-Prowl-254774764>  
> with this coloring: <http://gatekat.deviantart.com/art/Priest-Prowl-by-kusuriuri-417345774>  
> Jazz: <http://ninjaink.deviantart.com/art/Jazz-71965524>

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [School Time](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7695358) by [GinnyStar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GinnyStar/pseuds/GinnyStar)




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